She Will Be Loved
by UntitledFiction
Summary: Just a quick look at what I perceive as Luka's thoughts in regards to Marinette and her love for Adrien. As well as other stories that follow my perceptions of 90's and early 2000's music. MarinetteXLuka.
1. Chapter 1

**This one may be a series of unrelated or related one-shot stories. It really depends on my becoming inspired to write something while listening to music. These are all based off my impressions of Maroon 5's old songs, hence the title. Again, this is a LukaXMarinette story, so enjoy if it's your thing. Still being told from a third-person perspective, this one focuses on mostly focuses on Luka's thoughts about a certain blue-eyed girl and her feelings for someone else.  
**

The very first moment she walked into his bedroom to inform him that the group was preparing to start rehearsals he had seen it in her expression – the longing one can only associate with affections that aren't returned. It so easy to see when someone is clearly in love from an outside observer's perspective. Shy and stumbling over her words though she had been at the time of that first meeting, he had seen something beautiful shining from within. Maybe that something is what drew him in to his current perpetual state of friendly moral support.

After a brief exchange of words and the realization that he had hurt her with his innocent tease, he patted gently on the edge of his bed, inviting her to sit with him. As her body drew nearer to his, he felt the turmoil and the passion flowing from within her soul. "That's strange," Such a quiet an unassuming person in appearance with such curious feelings hidden just beneath the surface, "It seems you have something like this in your heart." The melody came to him as if by some sort of epiphany. She had closed her eyes and swayed to the rhythm, then turned to look at him as the music had faded back into the silence of the room.

"How do you do that?" She had questioned, tone of voice matching his masked feelings perfectly.

How indeed. In truth, Luka had no clue as to how naturally a melody came to him in this stranger's presence. Was it luck? Coincidence? Was she some sort of creative muse? Whatever the case, he had no real answer to offer her aside from something simple improvised off the cuff.

"Music is often simpler than words," He had told her, unsure as to whether or not the girl would buy something he was sure didn't sound genuine. However, as she stood and went to admire the guitar pick collection and the Jagged Stone poster on his wall, he could see no sign that she thought he'd been dishonest. Watching her browse through the collection of items displayed on his bedroom wall, he couldn't help the smile that had settled upon his features.

The second time he saw her, clearly more down in the doldrums than the first time, he felt compelled to offer her his support. "Do you feel kinda like this?" The music came so easily to him when he thought of her as he played. It was again as if the thoughts and feelings of the girl had been cosmically linked to the notes he produced with his instrument. A momentary connection he felt to be almost spiritual in nature. The small smile that played on her face as she nodded a silent response to his question had satisfied him so. The thought that the tiny emergence of genuine happiness had been something he was able to produce emboldened him. Though normally quite passive by nature, Luka remembers feeling compelled to act. Picking himself up off the chaise lounge, he made his way across the deck and toward the young woman with the blue bell eyes. "Well, personally, I think a girl like you deserves to feel more like… _this_." As he again struck the chords of his instrument, he could imagine -if only for a split second- that this is how he'd like to be able to make her feel.

For the first time in his life, that afternoon, Luka had felt a brief flash of irritation toward the person who had put this melancholy look on the girl's face. She deserved someone who would look and truly see her. "And whoever made you feel this way is nothing but a…" At this point, he returned to letting his music do the talking, not trusting his words to come out right. Just the same, Marinette had laughed along with him, clearly more cheery than when she had first appeared before him on the deck.

After an afternoon of skating and trying to ignore the glances she had been sending Adrien and Kagami's way, Luka came to understand that what she really needed from him was a bit of encouragement. She needed to know that someone was rooting for her happiness. He could be her support, even if it kinda hurt. As much as he didn't want to, he sent Marinette after Adrien. But not before a very welcome kiss on the cheek.

And so, it seemed, a trend had started.

Cut to right now and Luka finds himself sitting beside her on the couch in the home of one of her classmates, his arm wrapped comfortingly around her shoulder. It is quite the occasion, with basically the whole class, friends and relatives showing up to celebrate. The young fashion designer seems to be the only one here not enjoying the evening. Marinette's friends had just gotten up to go play DDR, leaving her behind at her own assurance that she's fine. But Luka, having seen the face she made the moment they left her side, knows better than to believe those two little words.

Walking over to her had been one thing, but now, listening to her complaints in regards to being saddened by the lack of Adrien's attendance, finding the words to comfort her is another matter entirely. He wants to comfort her, truly he does, but it hurts to try and find the right words of encouragement. It's hard to pretend as if he doesn't care in the interest of seeing her be happy. What does one say to someone you have feelings for when they need your encouragement to chase after someone else they like?

"I'm sure there will be more chances." He tells her, rubbing her shoulder in an attempt to try and be comforting. The sad smile that she offers him just before she responds tugs fiercely on his heartstrings.

"You sound like Alya." Her voice is withdrawn and dejected, her blue bell eyes darkening with the weight of her frustration. She shoves some of the loose hair behind her ear and away from her eye.

"Well, she's right." He tells her, feigning a smile. "It will work out. It just takes time."

Finally looking at him and offering a smile that doesn't seem so forced, the girl leans in and kisses him on the cheek a second time.

"Thanks Luka," She tells him happily. "You're always there for me."

As she stands and smooths out her shirt, he grins and carefully maintains his façade of cheer. Their eyes line up.

"Anytime." He tells her, barely restraining a wince at the response.

She extends her hand down in what he assumes is an offer to help him up and is surprised when the young woman speaks up as he reaches out to her.

"Why don't we go dance?" The words tumble out in a bit of a rush, as his fingers fall into her open palm.

Unable to say no, Luka offers his own grin with a small nod of approval. With that, the two head off to join the others in the living room, swaying together to the music coming from the TV.


	2. Won't Go Home Without You

**Here's what happens when YouTube auto-plays "Won't Go Home Without You" by Maroon 5 and I then proceed to stay up until almost 6am to finish a story. It's a bit more angsty than the other works I've posted so far, but that's the tone of the song, so what can I do? Anyway, I hope this is still enjoyable, though I was quite tired while editing.  
**

Luka still isn't sure when or how this started happening, not that he isn't glad for it. Somewhere along the lines, Marinette's visits to their houseboat had morphed from spending time with her other friends to hanging out with him. Short, friendly interactions where the two play boardgames, videogames, Luka plays his guitar, or they simply sit on the deck of the houseboat and contemplate life. Sure, there is a part of him that always secretly hopes for something more, but he's never been ready to take any action that might move things in that direction. The feelings he's had for the girl can be traced all the way back to their first meeting on the afternoon of the music festival and they've only become more intense with each fleeting interaction. But he knows she has feelings for someone else and has not been willing to lose what they already have over something completely one-sided. After all, nights like this one, where the two of them are simply content to share space, talk, play games and swap stories about the goings on in their lives have become treasured experiences to him.

They have the two lounge chairs backed up against one another and Marinette is braiding a lock of his hair as he strums out tunes on his guitar. Eyes closed, he can hear her shuffling around in her chair behind him and grins as she begins to speak.

"I have another question…if you're okay answering it…" Marinette breaks the short silence that had fallen between them since their previous conversation, to which his response is a quiet hum and a nod of acknowledgement. It takes her a moment to continue, so Luka peeks open an eye to get an idea of what she may be hung up on. Seeing the color in her cheeks, he freezes, the idle sounds of his guitar fading off into the silence of the cool night air. Somehow, it seems like the conversation is headed in a direction that's not yet been explored and he isn't sure if he's ready. Sitting up to get a better look at the girl, Luka leans his instrument against the side of the lounger. "Is there anyone you like?"

The silence that follows, while increasingly awkward for Marinette with each second that goes by, is time that Luka spends trying to formulate a response. How can he possibly answer honestly when he knows it could totally alienate her? He can't even think about lying to her, so that option is completely off the table. Remaining silent, Luka watches as she slowly turns more red in the face and attempts to walk back her curiosity.

"I-I'm sorry if it was too personal! You don't have to answer," She presses her fingers together, biting down on her lower lip and fixing her eyes on some invisible object off to her left, "I just t-thought that, well, you know I like someone and…"

"I do." He breaks into her stuttering, feeling a rush of heat roll up the back of his neck. It may be indirect, but it's still the first time he's ever voiced these feelings aloud. She stares at him for a moment in confusion, as if she hadn't quiet caught what he said. Preparing to repeat himself, Luka is caught off guard by her sudden excitement.

"You do?" Her eyes shimmer with curiosity in the pale lighting of the boat's deck. Luka feels himself squirming uncomfortably under the pressure of her obvious excitement at this news.

"Yeah." Attempting to appear casual, he lifts his guitar back into his lap and begins to play as another question startles him back into inactivity.

"Do I know her?" She has gone back to playing with the braid she's been making in his hair as he turns to glance at her, eyes shining with unspoken questions. After a moment of consideration and the realization that her eyes are once again lined up with his, Luka lets out a sigh.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure you know her well." He would really rather not say more for fear of giving himself away completely, but the pig-tailed girl's interested gaze has him in a bit of a box.

"Yeah? What's she like? Maybe I can help you if I know her." This is when he feels his resolve to stay silent finally snap. He knows he wouldn't be able to lie to her and he's never had anyone to talk to about it. So, all of it comes tumbling out the second the opportunity is before him.

"She's smart, creative, funny and compassionate," He confesses, watching as she nods in understanding, "We've only known each other for a little while, but the more time I spend with her, the more I like her." He pauses a moment to study her reaction before quickly pressing on, "The thing is…she already likes someone else, and I don't want to take that from her."

Another short silence follows in which he sees the shifting emotions flash behind her blue bell eyes. Something akin to empathy settles in her expression after a moment and she leans in and softly pecks him on the cheek. Though his heart begins to beat furiously in his chest, Luka is able to maintain a mostly calm exterior appearance as Marinette shifts back into her seat.

"I'm sorry Luka…but, for what it's worth…I think it's really cool of you." Her comment both hurts and soothes him, before her tone shifts into a playful one. "So…you haven't known her that long, you're spending more time with her recently and she likes someone else…I'd almost think you were talking about me…haha, just kidding!" It's clearly meant as playful banter, with no hidden context and yet the young man suddenly finds himself at an impasse. He watches her for a moment as he mulls over how he wants this to play out. He'd reminded himself not to cross this line so many times. Now here they are, in exactly the scenario he thought he knew how he would handle and he's hesitating to make the right call.

Completely missing the change in her facial expression and demeanor, Luka opens his mouth to speak and is abruptly cut off. He watches as she shuffles out of her seat, cheeks and ears once again red, lips pressed together as her flustered eyes search his for answers. As his eyes connect with hers, he realizes his prolonged silence has betrayed him and scrambles to his feet as well. Well, it would appear as though the choice has been made.

"I…was just joking…you know?" Marinette tries, now appearing downright uncomfortable.

Boy had he screwed up. This is not at all what he had wanted. Why in the world didn't he say anything? This all could have been avoided if he'd just joked along with her. Looking down at the uncomfortable girl, her averted eyes, rosy cheeks and closed-off body posture, he knows that now it's too late to turn back. Without making one move toward the girl, Luka speaks up, cutting through the tense silence hanging in the sir between them.

"I'm sorry," The boy begins, not really knowing what phrasing to use, afraid to speak the words but knowing there is no other choice leaves him very few options, "I…don't know what to say…" The tension could almost be cut with a knife as he runs his hand through his black and blue hair, finger catching in and accidentally undoing the braid she had been working on earlier. He feels the twist unraveling as Marinette takes a step back and away from him, trying to play it off as if she suddenly needs to leave before snatching up her purse.

"I…just realized I promised I'd help in the bakery tonight…I'm sorry, I gotta go!" She spouts this out in a breathless rush before hurrying off in the direction of the street.

As her form disappears into the darkness of the night, he considers going after her or calling out to her, but ultimately decides it won't do any good. At this point, she's not going to be ready to talk, so trying to stop her will likely only escalate things. Feeling like an idiot, Luka drops back onto the lounge, just hoping that giving her some time will help settle things enough so that they'll be able to talk it out.

This, of course, does not end up being the case, as for the next three weeks, the young fashion designer completely drops off the radar. He doesn't hear anything from her on the phone, on Facebook, or least of all, in person, so he doesn't attempt to contact her first. But…he _really_ wants to, and it takes all of his willpower to hold himself back. Hindsight is always twenty/twenty and looking back now, there were so many things he could have -no _should_ have- said in the moments he stood there like an idiot, silent and rooted to that spot on the deck of the boat. Why were such simple words so difficult? He should have said "I like you," like a normal person. He should have told her that he feels like Adrien hurts her too much and doesn't appreciate her enough. He should have explained that even though he doesn't expect anything from her and knows they likely won't be together that he wants her to be happy. Most of all, he should have told her that he still wants her friendship and values it. But he hadn't and now the regret is eating away at him.

When he finally does see her again, in passing with her group of friends who had come to hang out with Juleka, it's clear her eyes are a bit puffy. He tries to seek out her eyes, wanting to get her attention so she will stop and talk to him. But something happens that completely throws him off. Marinette avoids his gaze, turning away from him and toward Alya as she walks by, immersing herself in conversation. He stands there for a minute as the girls file into his sister's cabin, taken completely aback by her behavior. Marinette is not the kind of person to walk by without acknowledging someone unless it's by accident. So, this pointed avoidance is completely uncharacteristic of her. Now feeling a bit hurt on top of everything else, the young musician heads back to his own cabin to take a breather, choosing meditation to help ease his frayed nerves.

Another week and a half passes in which there is little change to this new dynamic to their relationship…or…lack thereof is it? He initially didn't want to be the first to break the silence for fear of making her feel forced into an unwanted conversation, but with so much time elapsed in between when they last spoke and now, it's becoming clear that if he doesn't do something, things might never be the same. So, he bites the bullet and sends her a single text.

{ **Luka 6:16pm:** Hey, I know you're probably still

upset…but…would you be

willing to meet me some place and talk?}

The result? Radio silence. He sees when the message is delivered and when it is read, but no reply comes. So much time passes after the message is sent that he works on his latest song, meditates and has dinner without hearing a single thing from her. As he begins to suspect he won't hear from her today, the phone goes off in his back pocket. He carefully takes the phone out of his pants pocket and hesitates for a moment before opening it when he sees the message is a reply from her.

{ **Marinette 7:33pm:** I'll be in Champ de

Mars in 10 minutes.}

Quickly snatching his jacket from the bed, Luka makes his way up on deck only to run into Juleka. They just about bump into each other as she tries to head inside and then step back from one another, both offering a quick apology. She looks him up and down carefully, leaning back on her heels a bit.

"Going out?" She questions quietly.

"Yeah. Let mom know I'll be back soon so she doesn't worry." He tells his younger sibling, moving past the girl and toward the gangplank.

"Hey Luka!" Juleka calls after the boy, who turns to glance back at his sister, mostly out of shock at her unusually loud tone of voice. She offers him an encouraging smile before speaking again. "Good luck."

Offering a quick smile in return, Luka heads off in the direction of Eiffel tower, not really knowing what to expect. The Parisian sun is hanging quite low in the sky as he makes his way to the park, lost in a sea of thought. How will he begin? What words will he use? Will she be angry? Will she yell? Will she even want to speak? He's never met her on this plain before and it's obvious that there's nothing that's off the table anymore.

The lights lining the streets and pathways light the space around him as he enters the park and spots her sitting on a bench under the tower. He takes a deep breath and then cautiously walks in her direction. She looks up at him before he can say anything, eyes still reflecting sadness back at him. A cool, evening breeze catches her hair as she looks expectantly up at the musician. For a moment he gathers himself, slowly building himself up to say the things that have been on his mind for more than a month. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he takes a careful step forward.

"Can I sit here?" The young man motions toward the spot beside her and waits for a nod of approval before settling into the space to her left. After a second of looking down at his knees uneasily, Luka finally looks up, hoping to meet her eyes. She appears too frazzled to make eye contact. "We both know I like you." His own phrasing surprises him. It's really quite blunt. Still not saying anything -perhaps also surprised by his blunt and sudden assertion- Marinette lowers her head and simply nods. "And I know that…you don't feel that way about me, so I want to be as clear as I can here…"

"W-wait! That's…" Cutting him off, the bluenette finally meets and holds his gaze. Luka doesn't miss the color that rises to her cheeks or the way she fidgets nervously with her fingers. "…that's not… _exactly_ true…"

Okay, so maybe she has him here. The first couple of times she spent time with him, her crush on him was pretty obvious. It's not as if he never noticed her nervous stuttering or the way her cheeks flushed when they were close. He still notices little things that suggest romantic feelings of some variety and degree. So, he knows there is something there. _'But,'_ Luka ponders to himself as the sun begins to dip down below the horizon, _'Is that something…enough?'_

"Right. That's fair." Oh boy, how to continue? How in the world would he know? He's never done anything like this before. "So…what about Adrien?"

Her gaze once again falls to her knees as the nervous fidgeting becomes more pronounced. Knowing he is not likely to get a verbal reply to this question, Luka works up the nerve and continues. "He's special to you and I get that, so I don't want to take it away from you. But I still want you to know what's on my mind."

"Can…I go first?" She looks up at him as if she needs to ask his permission. Though he desperately wants to get the words out, he can also recognize and respect that she probably has some things to say to him and nods in approval. Whatever complaints or grievances she may have to unload, he'll hear them. Turning to him, Marinette gives a small smile before saying something he doesn't expect to hear at all. "I'm sorry."

Shocked and at a loss for words, Luka simply waits for his companion to elaborate instead of inquiring about it. She seems to realize this and presses her fingers together, silently searching for the words she wants him to hear.

"I-I mean, I didn't know what to say when you didn't respond that night…t-then I just ended up running away. So much time passed that I just couldn't come up and talk to you normally anymore and so I…just started avoiding you…but I didn't want to hurt you…s-so I'm sorry. I'm really, _really_ sorry." At the end of her explanation, Luka can't resist a short, one-armmed hug to offer her some comfort and when she doesn't protest, he doesn't remove his arm.

"I'm…not gonna say it was fine but…apology accepted." He tells her, feeling the girl let out a small sigh of relief and begin to relax into him a bit. Still afraid to overstep an unseen boundary, Luka remains still, his arm not shifting an inch in it's place around her shoulders.

"And…I…" She gingerly bites down on her lower lip, expression almost fearful, as if she's not sure these are words she even wants to speak out loud, "I'm still not sure about…a lot. Including how I feel about Adrien…and… _you…_ and because of that…I was afraid to do or say anything either way. I didn't want to hurt anyone." Her eyes line up with Luka's and he finally makes the connection he hasn't up until now. For the first time since that night, he knows that what he's seeing isn't fear of him or his feelings, much less anything external. Her battle is being fought within. She didn't want to hurt him by rushing into a wrong move. It's clear she's been really struggling and giving this situation a lot of critical thought. All at once, he realizes that though he has many valid concerns, he's been too self-involved. He's been so busy panicking and racking his brain for what to say or do to fix this that he never noticed what has actually been happening. He couldn't have chosen a worse time to come clean if he'd tried, and that's stunningly obvious at this point, but now that they're here, there's no way he's going to walk away without making sure there is no more room for miscommunication.

"I understand." He tells her quietly. "Is that everything you wanted to say?"

"Yeah." One quiet word is all that she seems to want to offer.

"Okay…so…will you hear me out?" He asks, only continuing after she offers another nod. "I like you. Right now, you're unsure so," With this, the young man removes his arms from her shoulders, backing away from the girl in front of him, "Don't feel like you need to do anything after I say this. I just need to say it. I like Adrien, he's cool and all, but he's clueless and you're upset so much because he doesn't seem to notice how awesome you are. To me, you're incredible. Brave, funny, creative, kind and cute."

"T-thanks…" She squeaks, her back tightening as she offers a sheepish and embarrassed smile. She really must not be used to receiving such compliments, a fact he'd really like to remedy if she'll allow him the opportunity.

"I also want you to know that I don't want to stop being your friend. It means just as much to me as any…other kind of relationship we could have." It's the first time he's ever laid his feelings completely bare before someone, but it's also the first time he's ever felt it necessary. It's increasingly apparent that she is the one person he's willing to cast aside all dignity for. Well, whatever dignity he possessed to begin with, anyway. The raw emotion he's feeling and showing is completely overwhelming him and a wave of heat rolls up the back of his neck, washing over his nose and cheeks. He freezes when she offers him the most genuine smile he's seen from her in weeks and can't help but offer his own lop-sided grin in return.

"Me too." Marinette and Luka both breathe a simultaneous sigh of relief.

Getting back up onto his feet, Luka holds out his hand to the blue-haired girl on the bench before him. There is a moment where she simply glances questioningly between his hand and his own electric blue eyes. "So how about a do-over?" The boy questions, feeling encouraged by the way she grins up at him before reaching out and taking his hand. "I wanna make things right."

"Okay. What do you have in mind?" Once on her feet, she knows that she can let go, but she doesn't, instead surprising Luka by gripping his hand tightly.

"Come hang out. Just like always." Two simple sentences that seem to completely break the remnants of the tension between the two teenagers. Just like that, everything seems to fall back into routine. It is an idea both young people are tremendously thankful for.

"Okay, but, probably tomorrow. It's kinda late now." In the midst of their conversation, the winter sun had set over the horizon, the city now bathed in the temperature of it's many artificial lights. This is the first time he had paid any mind to the goings-on around them since he had arrived earlier, and she's right, it's time for her to go back to her own home for the night. Finally, her grip on his hand relents and her fingers fall away from his. "I'm gonna call my parents to come get us. They'll drop you off so you don't have to walk back in the dark." Where normally Luka would protest, he's attracted to the idea of a quiet ride home while talking with Marinette and her family. Sure beats walking back alone in the cold.

The following afternoon Marinette comes by after school for one of her typical visits, bringing a basket of croissants. Holding them out to Luka, her ears red and her face turned down so he can't meet her eyes, she stumbles her way through an explanation. "C-con-consider it a p-peace offering!" After a shared laugh, the two spend the rest of the afternoon playing boardgames on the deck of the houseboat with Juleka, polishing off the pastries and listening to the sounds of Luka's guitar.

Weeks pass by with similar visits coming and going. Fall slowly passes into Winter and the first snow falls on the next day Marinette and the entire gang come over to hang out. Christmas is now only about three weeks away, so the entire house boat is lit up for the occasion.

After a meal and some gaming below deck in the warmth of the indoors, they all venture out into the cold. Rose and Juleka set to work building a snowman, while Marinette finds herself taking heavy fire from rivals Mylene, Alya and Ivan in what is apparently a snowball fight-to-the-death. As she hides herself behind a light pole, suddenly Luka is beside her. Winking, he gathers more of the fallen snow and forms it in to several icy projectiles. "Three on one doesn't seem very fair." Grinning back at her new partner in crime, Marinette scoops up some of the freshly-made snowballs, preparing to throw at the same time he does. No clear winner of this match is ever decided, but everyone bears the battle scars as they one-by-one begin to file out, heading off to their separate homes.

Luka sees Marinette off, surprised but none-the-less pleased when the girl suddenly turns back toward him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. As she backs away and turns to leave, offering a knowing smile, he tries to ignore the fact that it's not just the cool wind making his face burn. "Hey Luka?" Her voice is only just audible above the noise of the blustery winter night.

"Yeah?" In his still slightly-stunned state, his only move is to answer her inquiry with one of his own.

"I-I think…I might like you." Marinette does her best to get the words out, but even knowing how he feels already, Luka can see she still worked up quite a bit of courage to get to the point where she could. But before he has the chance to come up with any sort of proper or intelligent response, her parent's car pulls up and Marinette's earlier courage is lost. She quickly squeaks out a few parting words and is down the gangplank and in her parent's car before he can get a single word out.


	3. Hanging By a Moment

**Just as a reminder, all three of the chapters posted in this group of stories are completely unrelated to one another (though I suppose chapters 1 and 2 could be read as if they are consecutive parts of the same story), just in case anyone read the previous two and then gets to this one and is reading along thinking "Has this author lost their mind?" No, these are all individual pieces and that is my intention. It's also not inspired by a Maroon 5 song, but I also couldn't get the idea out of my head, since this song ("Hanging By a Moment" by Lifehouse) would auto play while I was writing my other stories. It takes place in an alternate timeline, in which Marinette and Luka have been friends since early childhood.**

Luka wonders through the noise of the Halloween party Marinette had invited him to earlier in the month, absently browsing through the collection of All Hallow's Eve themed pastries her parents had lined the counter with. Though he isn't all that hungry after sampling some of the food already, he needs something to distract himself from his mile-a-minute thoughts. Thoughts that seem to be consumed more and more these days by a certain blue-eyed aspiring designer. Quietly pouring himself some sparkling water from one of the bottles topping the counter on the other side of the bakery's lobby, he sinks into one of the three covered card tables and takes a quick sip as he tries to pull it all back together.

At first, he'd been completely terrified and had no idea what to do with his developing feelings for his best friend. How could he have feelings for the girl he'd grown up with? The one person he's been closest to his entire life, his first and closest friend and the most amazing and talented girl he knows. It has always been true that he cares deeply about her, thinks she's amazing, talented and pretty and wants the best for her. It still is. But romantic feelings? While he can't say his mind had never wondered into 'what-if' territory, he had never attached any deep meaning to it. Put anyone in his place a few months ago and he's sure that you would have seen it have a similar effect on them.

At the time, she had been so in love with her high-school crush, Adrien, and the two had been seeing each other. It was the first time he ever felt jealousy related to Marinette and he'd had no idea what to do with it. It was new, scary and honestly kind of weird. So, he'd made himself scare during those days, still around to offer encouragement in happy times and support in sad ones, Luka had simply needed space to figure out where all of this was coming from.

Then, during Sophomore year, Adrien's father made the decision to move out of the country. Still being a minor, Adrien had no choice but to go, and had broken off their relationship, much to the dismay of both teenagers. Both had acknowledged that a long-distance relationship was just not workable with his busy schedule. Marinette had cried the night his plane was scheduled to depart, and Luka had comforted her, hating himself for feeling a little relieved.

But as the days and weeks have passed, turning into months, he's stopped being afraid of these feelings. Instead of fearing a change in the fundamental dynamic of their relationship, the musician finds himself with a new predicament. He knows full well that as his best friend, she deserves the truth. The problem is he's having trouble coming up with the 'how.' How do you sit your best friend down and tell them that you think you might be falling in love with them? Is there a right time? A preferable method? Well, he has no freaking clue.

He twists the plastic cup around in his hand, humming along to 'Thriller,' which has come on over the speaker system set up for the event in the living room. _'Does how even matter?'_ His mind muses. _'I just want to be honest.'_

"Boo!" Who should startle Luka out of his thoughts but the girl in question, who looks pleased with herself as she pulls up another chair from the table and takes a seat beside him. "Did I surprise you?"

"Yeah," He offers only a small grin before raising the cup back to his lips for another drink.

"Why are you sitting out here by yourself?" She asks, placing her hand over his. A common occurrence these days, he feels his heart rate pick up. His ears burn. "Everything okay?"

As two pairs of blue eyes line up in the dimly-lit room, Luka realizes that this is as good a moment as any. The darkened ambiance of the party is providing a near prefect backdrop. The emptiness of the Bakery's lobby makes him feel as if they are the only two people in the entire world. Getting lost in this expressive blue gaze of hers, all his doubts, all his troubles suddenly feel completely irrelevant. Lifting her hand from the table and threading his fingers through hers earns a small squeal of surprise from the girl sitting beside him. Glancing down at their fingers, he can't help but notice how perfectly they fit together. With the slight squeeze of his fingers around hers as his only support, he finally lets out the words that have been trying to escape his mind for all this time.

"I…" A second or two of slight hesitation under her confused gaze, "I think…I'm falling in love with you."

For her, these words take a moment to sink in. He can tell the words have truly reached her when he sees her face begin to redden and she averts her eyes. His eyes pick up the way her body language changes as she bites down on her lip. She taps on the table with her free hand, squirming uncomfortably in her seat as he watches her and waits for any kind of verbal response.

It takes her a moment to meet his eyes again, but she does, face still pink and a nervous smile playing on her lips. "O-okay…" He hasn't seen her stammer like this since she first met Adrien. "T-then ummm…do you want to…?"

Her question is cut short as he moves in, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. Her eyes are wide as he moves back and the boy smiles to himself at the way she raises her hand to her face and softly brushes her fingertips over the place his lips had just been. Biting his lip, a smile takes over his features, feelings splitting equally between bashful and playful. His thumb brushes the back of her hand. A split second of time elapses in which Luka can see something change behind those bright baby blues and suddenly she moves in, placing her lips over his. Her fingers run gingerly through his electric blue high lights. At first, he can't help but stare, too stunned to move. Is his heart about to stop or leap right out of his chest?

As he pulls the girl in, feeling her smile into the soft kiss, he wonders if there could be a more perfect moment than this one.


	4. Sunday Morning

**Sweet and fluffy romance set to "Sunday Morning." Two friends in college exploring a new element to their close relationship after one shows up at the other's apartment, rain-soaked and in need of some cheering up. As always, hang out and enjoy if it's your thing, go enjoy something else if it's not. LukaXMarinette, obviously.**

The first sound that echoes down the hazy corridors of his waking mind is the distinct pattern of heavy rainfall. His eyes open slowly, and the young man blinks a few times to clear the film of sleep from his field of vision and get a good look at the environment around him. The room is still bathed in the darkness of early morning and yet his now functioning brain has collected the necessary info to conclude that he is in his own bedroom, cuddled up with his pillow on his own bed. The conclusion drawn is satisfying enough for his sleepy brain as he flips onto his other side and nestles into his pillow. Naturally not much of a morning person, he closes his eyes again and relaxes into the bedspread just as his body registers another sensory disturbance.

Reaching down to his left side, he scratches a small itchy spot only to find some sort of paper like object plastered to his side. Irritably, his eyes open once more as he peels the offending object from his skin and brings it before his eyes to get a good look at the item that so rudely halted his quest for more sleep. Eyes already adjusted to the darkness of the room, he can see that it's a playing card. But what is such an item doing in his bed with him?

Confused yet still too tired to question it further, he tosses the card away, settling back into the comfort of his pillow. It isn't until he hears a soft hum coming from the space next to him that he realizes he's got company. The bed creaks as his mystery companion shifts comfortably in their own separate dreamland and he is instantly wide wake, sitting bolt-upright in bed.

He knows right away who she is, but his mind is still trying to piece together the puzzle of what she's doing here. Her soft dark blue hair is loose from the usual confines of the hair ties she uses to hold it up and is splayed out in every direction around her soft face as she dreams peacefully beside the startled young man. She still wears the clothes he had lent her last night when she had showed up on at his front door, rain-soaked and shivering, asking for an umbrella so she could get home.

This is the point where his brain kicks into gear and the events of the night before start to reassemble themselves in his head.

* * *

 _He was sitting in his living room, sheet music and scribbled lyrics on scratch paper littering the coffee table in front of him as he strummed a few chords on his guitar. He'd been at this all day and quite frankly, his creative spirit was beginning to wane. The day had begun with such enthusiasm to create, which he had been doing, but now, after more than 30 hours at this, his motivation was decidedly no longer present. Just as he began to contemplate taking a break for food and a maybe some TV to take his mind off the wall he'd clearly hit, a knock sounded from his front door._

 _Startled, he stared at the door, not having been expecting any company. It was very likely to be a door-to-door salesperson and he knew better than to open the door and try to talk down one of those people again. Just as he had settled back into his music, the knock came again, louder and more rapid this time._

 _Finally curious, he sighed and set his guitar aside to go peer through the peep hole. He leaned in and peeked at the uninvited guest, shocked at the sight he had found on the other side of the door. A girl, soaked and shivering, waited on the other side of his front door, arms wrapped across her chest to fend off the biting cold of the late October evening. A rush of guilt swept over the boy and he hurriedly unlocked the front door, pulling it open. Her head popped up in time with the opening of his door, the surprise on her face a perfect mirror of his own feelings._

" _Mari…nette?" The young man inquired, leaning onto his open front door. "What are you doing here?"_

 _For a moment she had remained completely silent, staring up at him in surprise as if she hadn't really expected he'd answer the door for her. He could see the water dripping down into a puddle at her feet as she tried to wring out her shirt. Just how long had she been wondering around in the rain? It took some time for her to realize the stunned silence was inappropriate before she dropped her eyes to the ground, her face flushed. He watched as her fingers fumbled while she desperately searched for the words she wanted. In an instant, her demeanor had morphed from puzzled to embarrassed._

" _H- Hey! Ummm…ca-can I borrow an u-umbrella?" Skipping right over any explanation for her appearance or the impromptu visit, she stumbled over her words and he tried to hold back the smile, the experience bringing back memories of the first time he had met her. Perhaps the cutest thing about her was that she never tried to be cute. It was always a complete, happy accident._

" _Come again?" He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest._

" _O-oh uh, right….haha," She laughed, a small nervous laugh and ran a shaking hand through her sopping wet hair. "Maybe…I shouldn't have started with that. Let me try again…" After a small clearing of her throat, the girl finally continued, "Hi Luka!" An awkward wave. "I'm sorry to show up like this…I was headed home when it started raining and I'm really cold. Would you mind if I come in?"_

 _He had quickly stepped aside, ushering her in to the bathroom, offering her a change of clothes and a towel he'd quickly tossed into the drier to heat up for her. After she'd dried off and changed, he brewed her a hot coffee which she gratefully accepted. He'd taken a seat next to her on the couch, trying to ignore the feelings seeing her wrapped up in his clothes were creating, and listened to her as she told the story from the beginning -basically, she was ditched by her date at a party she'd been asked to attend with him. He never felt such a sharp flash of anger before. Not only had the mystery guy ditched her, he'd made her walk back from a house party after a couple drinks all alone in the rain! In the rain after dark, no less! What if something terrible had happened to her? Of all the careless, inconsiderate, unsafe…basically, his temper hit maximum temperature, and then completely boiled over._

" _You should have called me!" He barked suddenly, then realized based off the hurt and mild concern in her expression that his outburst was rightly not well-received. It was wrong to have let the anger come out in his tone. He knew well enough she'd assume he was angry with her and that's not what he had wanted. After clearing his throat, he tried again. "Sorry. I'm not mad at you. What I meant_ _was_ , _you should have called Alya or me. One of us_ _would have come to get you. We wouldn't have complained."_

 _The look on her face eased into a soft smile and she reached out, laying a hand on his forearm. Luka froze under the touch of her cold fingertips, heart racing in his chest. "Thanks Luka." Voice as soft as silk, her smile warmed him. "I would have...but my phone died." Her fingers lightly brushed along his arm before her hand fell back into her lap. Before he could even try to compose himself, the heat had traveled up the back of his neck and settled in his cheeks._

 _Given the late hour and the worsening of the storm outside, Luka offered his home as a refuge for the girl, refusing to send her back out into the cold with only an umbrella. Her phone connected to a charger in his kitchen, Marinette opted to use his phone to call her parents landline and let them know she was safe and staying with a friend. They'd spent the rest of the evening playing board games in his bedroom, forgetting their troubles and getting lost in the utter silliness of Candyland, Mousetrap and ending their night with rousing rounds of Uno._

* * *

And that is how the young musician finds himself in his current position, laying in bed on a rainy morning with his best friend since high school and the girl he's loved for so long now sleeping peacefully at his side. He tries not to stare, really he does, but no matter how many times he attempts to focus on something else, his eyes drift back to the soft smile playing on the girl's features, the quiet mumblings passing over her lips in her sleep, the soft rise and fall of her chest as she dreams. Loosely wrapped up in his Metallica tee-shirt and a pair of borrowed athletic shorts, she couldn't look any cuter. He remembers with the heat slowly washing over his cheeks, how distracting that very thing had been yesterday evening. He can't stop his eyes from running down along the curve of her hip and then bites his lip and sighs, embarrassed at himself for so shamelessly checking her out in such a vulnerable position.

Leaning into his hand, the college student lets out a huff of disapproval at his own actions before he attempts to regain some level of composure and propriety. She trusts him so wholly and it feels like such a violation of her trust to keep indulging his compulsive behavior. It's best just to wake her up now rather than let his mind continue to wonder to unnecessary places. However, just as he reaches out to place one hand on her shoulder and give the girl a gentle shake as a wake-up call, she stirs all on her own, yawning and stretching as her consciousness slowly returns to her. After blinking to get a sense of the space around her, and her sense of self-awareness comes back into play, the young woman offers him a small, groggy smile. Swallowing, he does his best to act natural and grins back at her.

"Morning," He offers quietly, "How are you feeling?"

Without responding, Marinette shuffles closer, snuggling into his chest. Frozen in place, Luka can now only hope against hope that she can't tell how fast his heart is beating. Her arms are folded in between their bodies as she presses her cheek against his collarbone and gently nuzzles into the collar of his shirt. Her body trembles just a bit and he can feel that her exposed skin is slightly cold on contact, but has trouble focusing on that when shivers are moving in waves up and down his spine. She's so close. It may just kill him. Overwhelmed, he places a hand gently on her shoulder, ready to push her back when the girl finally speaks up.

"Slee…py…" Her tone indicates that she still isn't totally ready to stay awake. Once more, her body trembles as she tries to bury herself within the space next to him. Carefully, he reaches out and pulls the Deadpool-themed throw blanket over her, satisfied when she finally stops shivering. A small smile plays on her features once more just before she speaks again. "You're so warm…"

' _This girl…If I didn't know better, I'd swear she's actively trying to end my life,'_ Grinning at his own internal monologue, he uses the hand that had just been on her shoulder to gently pinch her cheek in retribution for inflicting this internal torment on him.

Just as he begins to move back, there is a sudden and sharp tug on the fabric of his shirt. Glancing down at the girl for answers, he takes note of the way she bites her lip and the redness adoring her cheeks is visible even in the dull early morning light. Her eyes, at first averted out of sheer embarrassment, slowly rise to meet his. Those blue bell eyes of hers gaze up at him imploringly, so many unasked questions and unspoken words hanging on her lips. Studying her face, he can see that she desperately wants to speak the words that are rattling around in her brain aloud, but she's hesitating for reasons that are her own. As far as he's concerned, she need not say anything if she doesn't want to or isn't ready. With the steady rain beating down on the roof of the apartment building as the only sound filling the silence of the room, Luka already intuitively understands what is in her heart. He now knows for sure he's not leaving her side any time soon.

"I…" She begins, lower lip trembling ever so slightly before she loses all confidence and hides her face by burying herself into his chest. "I d-d-don't think I w-would have the nerve to do this…if I weren't so tired still…" He can feel her body beginning to tremble again and this time, there is no such excuse as the cold to blame it on.

Moving back into her, he drapes one arm over her waist while the hand he had been using as a prop to hold himself up is running through the silky strands of her hair. If he interprets her actions correctly, he has no reason to hide from her any more. To a point, there's no longer a need to hold himself back. On impulse, he leans in toward her and places a tender kiss on her forehead. Those inquisitive blue orbs finally reconnect with his own eyes as she moves away from her hiding place. Its when she reaches out and brushes his cheek with her soft fingers that his will completely crumbles, and he just has to ask.

"Since when?" Voice cutting through the steady sound of rain, his inquiry startles the young woman pressed against his chest. He tries not to grin as he sees her face light up with a near-impossible shade of red. After a moment of consideration, Marinette shrugs, shaking her head.

"I…I…" Her obvious reluctance to comment gives him pause. Has he pressed too hard?

"You don't have to answer." The arm resting over her waist tightens into something of an embrace. If she isn't ready to answer or simply prefers not to, he respects that boundary. As much as he may want to hear everything, he only wants to take what she's ready to offer.

"Marinette…" He trails off, eyes dropping to the bedspread. With so much on his mind all at once, the musician has trouble sorting through it all to find a way he wants to begin. Those soft fingers run through the hair at the nape of his neck and he feels the goosebumps raise up along his spine and down his arms. When his eyes meet hers once more and he sees the gentle, patient smile playing on her lips, the momentary hesitation finally passes. With a small grin, he moves in and places his lips over hers, delighted to feel the girl reciprocate the affection. Her hand presses into the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer into this shared moment. Pulling away, his azure eyes gleam with emotions he can no longer –and no longer wishes to- keep to himself. "You may not want to say it yet…and that's fine…but I have felt this way about you for a long time now. I wanted you to know."

The only natural response to a flushed and clearly embarrassed Marinette is a playful grin as the fingers that had been running through her hair now ghost over the curve of her cheek. Keeping his amusement to himself, he simply takes in the sight of her nervous fidgeting. Her eyes, which had been anxiously darting to various points in his room only seconds ago, now meet his again.

"C-can you…" The girl begins, blue bell eyes dropping to the bedspread as quickly as they had made contact with Luka's piercing gaze. nervously, she presses her forefingers together. His heart leaps into his throat. It's a simple matter to deduce what the rest of her question might be but before he can even think about acting upon her wishes, what he needs most of all is to hear the words out loud.

"Can I…what?" Though it had been a serious inquiry, it comes out sounding like a tease and he's okay with that until those blue bell eyes snap back up to meet his and he can see a worrisome emotion flickering from just beneath the surface. It's something akin to frustration and it stings him a little as he lets it sink in for a moment. Perhaps he ought to back off a little. It just may be possible that he's letting himself get a little too high on the pleasant sensation of this experience. Who wouldn't want to get drunk on such a feeling? All this time, he thought he was the only one with such thoughts and feelings for his friend. To hear that even a small fraction of his feelings are returned is a fairly overwhelming experience. "Sorry…I shouldn't force…"

"Can you…k-kiss me again?" His eyes are on her before a single second can pass. The words hit him like a tidal wave. His heart pounds so loud, not only is it audible in his own ears, he would hazard a guess that she might even be able to hear it too. He studies her face carefully, as if he's uncertain her request is genuine.

He has no way to know when it began, but at some point the arm resting over her back has begun to slide over her hip and along her waist. The young man can feel his face heat up considerably when she leans her weight into his touch, a pleased hum passing over her lips. His forehead falls onto hers almost of its own accord, the end of his nose lightly brushing against hers.

"Tell me…" He begins breathlessly, "…if I do anything you don't want…" As he closes the space between them, he swears he can feel her body tremble again. Was it a reaction to his words alone? Perhaps that's a question he'll investigate further…but not right now. Right now, all he can focus on is the way her small body seems to fit perfectly against his as the kiss grows slowly more heated. All that matters is the way her hands have wrapped around to completely encircle his body, her fingers tracing slow patterns into his back. Her leg has somehow overlapped his, her foot hooked just below his ankle. The throw blanket he had pulled over her has been shoved to the side in the midst of the pair's slow explorations of this new territory. The experience is so dizzying that it's almost hard to concentrate on putting effort into the kiss. Almost.

Scooting back momentarily to catch his breath, he hears the girl beside him let out a long huff of air followed by several short, shaky breaths. It occurs to him that he may have gone a little too far and he cautiously brings his gaze up to examine her condition and issue an apology, but the sight of the girl stills him. Appearance far from that of someone who feels violated, she instead looks rather pleased and even -dare he think it- content. Her eyes sparkle with adoration as she bashfully meets his gaze and releases her hold on his body to lace her fingers together with his.

Pulling his arm toward her, she gently kisses his fingers before hugging his wrist against her collarbone. Delighted as he is, this does put him in the precarious position of trying to maintain some semblance of propriety while she clutches his arm tightly, holding it against her chest. He…just kissed his best friend. He'd held her close, kissed her and she'd returned the affection as he allowed himself to finally act on feelings that had been building up all this time. And it was _everything._ He's never felt a wave of heat wash over him with such force as it does in this moment. His cheeks and ears burn as he drops his gaze back to the blanket and covers his face with his other hand, hoping she doesn't notice. A hope that is immediately trampled.

"What's the matter? Mr. Calm and collected musician has never touched a girl before?" Marinette teases, snuggling up against his arm and tossing out an impossibly devilish-looking grin in spite of her red cheeks. Defiance floods his senses. Well, she's obviously comfortable. So much so that she's even worked up the confidence to taunt him like that. His pride won't allow him to be the only one in this equation whose nerves are getting the better of them.

Dropping his fingers away from his face, he pulls out of her grasp and wraps his newly freed arm around her slender waist, pulling her flush. The fingers of his other hand come to rest just under her chin, tilting her head just enough so that she must meet and hold his gaze. The small squeak of surprise and the new color filling her cheeks are not lost on him as he offers the same devilish grin back at the poor flustered girl in his arms.

" _Marinette_ ," The tone of voice is purposeful, and he basks in the guilty pleasure that overtakes him when he feels her shiver in response to his voice for the third time this morning. Another squeak of surprise comes tumbling out as he places a soft kiss on the side of her neck. Moving back to see the look on her face, he knows he's already accomplished what he's set out to do, still he just can't help but to add in a little something extra, just for fun. "This is the first time the girl has been _you_."

Not only does her flustered expression freeze in place, her body seems to stiffen in his grasp as well. Her blue bell eyes are full of such surprise and boy would he love to know more about what's going on behind them. He's close enough to feel how fast her heart is beating. His ears pick up her shaky breaths. He watches her for a moment, unsure how to fix this fine mess he's created or if it even needs fixing. Did he just accidentally break her? His hand falls away from her chin. Just as he's considering speaking up, she finally seems to regain some of her senses. Her eyes drop down to the blanket they're curled up together on top of.

"L-Luka…" She covers her face with her hands, her feet kicking back and forth for a couple seconds before she allows them to rest again. "Stupid…handsome, charming Luka…"

Sweet, wonderful relief. For a few seconds there, he was genuinely worried he may have been being a bit too forceful. He smiles gently down at her before letting out a deep sigh. As wonderful as all of this has been, he knows it also means its time for a talk.

"Marinette," He scrambles into a sitting position, "Why don't I make us something to eat?" He pauses for another moment or so, eyeing her carefully before speaking the words that are really on his mind. "And maybe…we can talk about… _this_." His fingers rake through his hair when he sees the nervous tension taking over her posture. She refuses to meet his eyes anymore after this, only offering a stiff nod in response. The rain beats against the glass pane, the light from the window now beginning to brighten the room as he studies her body language. She doesn't appear uncomfortable per-se, but the fact that she's no longer at ease is enough to let Luka know he should tread lightly.

They prepare and cook the food in uneasy silence, Luka occasionally glancing her way, only to see her quickly turn her gaze from his and pretend to be engrossed in her tasks. He knows she must have her reasons to behave this way, but he's beginning to wonder if it's not simply because she's regretting her actions. It makes sense that she's uneasy because she doesn't want to hurt him and can't come up with a nice way to ask if they can pretend this never happened. The pit in his stomach grows ever deeper as he sets the last of the food on the table. Sliding into his seat, he peers across the table at his companion who has begun to eat without saying a single word. She continues to pointedly avoid meeting his eyes. Sighing and unsure he even wants the answer, the young man waits for her to set down her fork and then reaches out and places his hand over hers. He bites down on his lower lip, not feeling encouraged by the way she jumps back in her seat at his touch.

"Do you regret it?" He has no time to dwell on the pain these words cause him.

"What?" Snapping to attention, she quickly barks out a reply. "No! I don't! I…have been thinking about this so long…it took so much courage!"

"Then…what's going on?" It's a relief to hear she isn't reconsidering her earlier sentiments, but it also leaves him more confused than he already had been.

"I…" Sighing, she pulls her hand back just enough to be able to thread her fingers through his and give his hand a gentle squeeze. "I just don't want our friendship to…" When she trails off, it's clear she won't be elaborating further. Her eyes drop to the table as she picks at her food with her free hand. But Luka knows what she's trying to get at. Softly squeezing her hand in return, he quietly begins.

"Marinette…" When she doesn't look up Luka lets out a little huff, "Please…look at me." Timidly, she raises her eyes. "I will _always_ be your best friend. I was your friend first and I'll be that regardless." Satisfied with the sight of her body relaxing back into her chair and the way the tension leaves her expression, He steadies his nerves with a deep breath before pressing on. In, out. Come on Luka, you can do this. "But…that's not all we are anymore…right?" He feels himself leaning in, interest eating away at him as he watches her consider her answer. A small smile stretches across her face as she fidgets, playing with strands of her loose hair.

"I'd…l-like to think that's true…" The soft mumbling tumbles out quietly.

"Me too…" He takes a bite of his oatmeal as she glances between their hands and some invisible object to her left. There's more to come in this conversation and he knows it. "But?"

"But…we've been friends so long and I'm…" She chooses the next set of words very carefully. "Not…sure I'm ready for it to all change right away. If that makes sense." When he can't find the words he wants and doesn't respond, Luka can practically feel Marinette exuding higher and higher levels of anxiety. "T-that…um…what I mean is…I still want to be with you…I-I'm still r-romantically interested...it's just complicated…a-and…"

"Whoa, slow down…" A gentle squeeze around her fingers seems to get her attention and break her out of the nervous stuttering. "Everything is fine. I get it. Whatever is easiest for you, that's what I'll do."

While they finish their food in a relatively comfortable silence, Luka is still wrestling with an idea in his head. He cleans the dishes up by himself while she sips on a hot tea and watches the morning news in the adjoining room. Deep down, Luka knows there's still one item he can't let her leave without addressing. It's the only thing he is sure he needs to give voice to up front. The only stipulation he has for her.

After redressing herself in the clothes she had been wearing last night and Luka gets cleaned up and dressed as well, the pair head outside and make a quick dash through the rain to Luka's old Toyota. Putting the key in the ignition and starting the car, he allows the vehicle to idle while the defogger does its job. Tossing a quick glance and a smile her way, there's no better time to say this than right now.

"I'm glad that we are… _whatever_ we are now." Awkward start, but he deserves some credit for making the effort, right?

"So am I." She flashes him a happy smile but must notice the uneasy expression on his face, because he hears the small gasp as he stares down at the steering wheel. After all the progress he's made today, what would happen if this is the wrong thing to ask? What if it makes her distance herself? Given the fact that he's already this anxious simply at the thought, he has no idea how he'll handle things if that's how it all plays out.

"Luka? Are you okay?" He nods silently in response to the inquiry before turning to look at her.

"Just…whatever… _this_ is," A quick motion between the two of them, "Can I…" the last thing that he wants is to frighten or offend her, but if he's venturing into this uncharted space with her, he won't feel secure moving forward until this question is asked and he has her answer. "…expect that its exclusive while we figure it out? I won't rush you, I just need to know this."

Her face reddens considerably. Reaching out, she lays her hand on the side of his face, offering that bashful smile of hers. The heaviness he felt before beginning to lift, he grins automatically in response, watching her expectantly in the short silence. The sound of the rain pelting against the roof of the car fills the quiet of the moment.

"Of course." Her eyes dart quickly in the direction of the dashboard before flickering back in his direction. This time, he can see a distinct change in her demeanor. "I…wouldn't see someone else even if you hadn't asked, though." The indignant tone coupled with the pouty expression she sports is a dead giveaway that he has struck a bit of a nerve.

"Sorry Marinette. I wasn't trying to imply that I thought you would. What we are…what we _become_ or don't…it matters a lot to me. I guess I'm just…a little insecure right now." Embarrassed at the rawness of the emotions he'd just confessed, Luka stares obstinately at the steering wheel, his grip around the object slowly increasing.

Hearing the small groan the of the leather armrest as she leans across it, Luka carefully peeks at her out of the corner of his eyes just as her soft lips meet his cheekbone. Just as quickly as it began, she scrambles back into her seat and fastens her seat belt, a soft smile dominating her features as she stares into her lap. Though he turns to look at her, Marinette is now the one refusing to look up from her lap. Sighing, he fastens his own seat belt before shifting the car into reverse and switching on the wiper blades. Before he takes his foot off the brake, the young design student mumbles out a few simple words that make the boy smile to himself.

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say…and I'll k-keep it in mind." Knowing the girl well enough by now, he understands that the nervous fiddling of her fingers and the avoidance of eye contact only mean he's said all that needs to be said to smooth the rough edges away and close out the conversation.

"Well, I better get you home." He watches for any cars passing through the parking lot before backing out of his spot and heading toward the street. Once on the road that will take her home, Luka turns on the radio and as she sings along to whatever pop song is playing, he settles back into his seat for the short drive.


	5. Drops of Jupiter

**Based on 'Drops of Jupiter' by Train. Not a Maroon 5 song (again) but I couldn't get this theme out of my head. This one is so long that I feel like it needs to come out in two parts. This is part one, and though I know it has taken a LONG TIME to upload again (hopefully not so long that all my readers have gotten bored waiting) I'm having trouble ending the story in a way I think is fitting. So it may be some time before I am able to upload the next part even though it's currently in progress. There is a fair amount of family drama involved in this particular chapter, so be prepared for that before reading or skip if it's not your thing. I'm sorry that this chapter took so long to come out. Hopefully it's enjoyable.**

A busy morning in Charles de Gaulle International bustles around a young man who anxiously taps his hand against the side of his leg as he waits in the drop off and arrival area. In a seat one moment, pacing behind the security ropes the next, he finds he's simply too excited to hold still. Though he is aware of what an annoyance his behavior is becoming for the others waiting for their friends or family members to de-board their planes, he is still unable to compose himself.

And why, you ask, is he such a mess? Just what is the occasion that has him this giddy with anticipation? Great question, one which has a very uncomplicated answer. Today is the day -after nearly five years apart and various video chat conversations, text messages and phone calls- that his best friend is finally returning from her time abroad. Well, if they can still be called that. For many months, there has been a certain intimacy growing between them that has largely gone unspoken. Considering he'd had feelings for the young woman from very nearly the beginning of their friendship, he's rather eager to talk this all out with her. The very same girl who had announced she'd be attending University and working abroad after their high school graduation. It's not hard at all to recall her enthusiasm. As soon as she'd found out she was accepted to the New York School of Design, she had started planning her trip and looking into affordable housing for students.

And he…remembers feeling quite conflicted. On the one hand, he had been ecstatic for her and had happily spent time helping her look up eateries, entertainment and other essentials online. He had been delighted to see her light up when talking about her upcoming adventure with her group of girlfriends. He can't overstate the singular joy it had been to see her begin her journey toward her biggest goal. And then there had also been the selfish side of him, the side that didn't want to see her leave. Even though he'd been her friend already for a few years by the time high school graduation rolled around, he knew that there was so much more to his feelings than a simple crush. Even though back then he'd had no idea what the true extent of his feelings for her were, he knew it was strong enough that the thought of her leaving hurt deeply.

He also remembers the day he'd gotten his acceptance letter from Julliard. It would have been such a joyous occasion if it had just come a little earlier. But in his case, the acceptance had come at what may have been the worst possible time.

Shaking his head to clear away the needless unpleasant memories, the young musician takes a deep breath in, then releases, an action that is supposed to calm one's nerves. He has to say, even as someone who meditates frequently, deep breathing exercises do little to quell his anxieties in this moment. His knuckles begin to turn white as he grips the fabric of his jacket.

Suddenly, a hand is on his shoulder and he jerks his head around to find a very concerned-looking Alya staring at him as if his hair has spontaneously burst into flames. Of course it must be disconcerting for her, someone so used to never seeing him lose his nerve like this. She only tips her head slightly instead of speaking, somehow intuiting his lack of desire for conversation. Her eyes ask the question she doesn't speak aloud. _'Are you gonna be okay?'_

Straightening himself and raking his fingers anxiously through his black and blue hair, he realizes that right now might not be an ideal time for a trip down memory lane. He tosses a small and most likely unconvincing smile in Alya's direction before nodding and taking a seat once again. The young woman doesn't appear to be convinced, but steps away and back toward Nino and the others.

Looking back up at the arrivals board for what may be the ten thousandth time within the last five minutes, he again sees that her flight has arrived. Pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket, he stares at the screen awaiting the message that has yet to arrive.

Just as he begins to place the phone down into his lap, the small device goes off in his hand. Simultaneously, the phones of the entire group of people also here to greet the recent college graduate go off, all with the same message from the person in question. He watches as Marinette's parents check their cell phones, exchanging excited glances before his eyes shift over to the group of girls now squealing and jumping about, some of them shooting back their own individual responses. Nino idles next to Alya who gives a whoop of excitement and squeezes her boyfriend tightly after receiving the news. The two of them chat happily with an equally happy Adrien, who had been permitted the time away from his other obligations by his father so he could attend this mass greeting and the subsequent welcome-home party.

( **Marinette 9:47am:** My plane just landed.

Be out in a few minutes!)

Smiling down at his phone, he gets back to his feet in seconds and goes to join the rest of the group. He does not appreciate the knowing -and by consequence, teasing- look that his sister sends his way as he steps up beside her. Rose, picking up on the intentions behind her girlfriend's pointed gaze, mirrors the look. Instead of indulging the two young ladies, he shakes his head and looks past them, down into the hallway leading to the terminal. There, almost hidden amongst the crowd of people heading out of the terminal, is a young woman with deep blue hair that hangs down around her shoulders, wearing a pair of jeans, boots and a fall sweater. She drags her bags along behind her, a backpack slung over her shoulder. A little jet-lagged though she may be, he can't help the smile that takes over his features as she makes her way toward them.

Cheers and greetings break out from the rest of the small crowd of people who have arrived today to welcome her back home. As soon as she makes it past the security barriers, everyone seems to swarm her at once, asking how she's been since they spoke last. Her parents embrace the happy but somewhat exhausted-looking girl at the same time, making one very sleepy Marinette sandwich. He finds he can't hold back the laugh as she pulls away from their affection, looking every bit as dazed as any young adult in her position might.

Alya is next to hug her tightly, rambling on about how she wants to hear everything about New York as Marinette smiles and chats happily with her and the other girls. In the midst of this, Adrien and Nino join the conversation. After all this time, Marinette and Nino seem to resemble siblings, even having their own silly 'secret' handshake, which they of course make a show out of doing right here in the airport. Then Adrien leans in and gives the girl a quick hug, quietly welcoming her back. She grins up at the model, now considerably taller than her and makes polite idle chatter.

A younger, less mature version of himself may have been a bit jealous of that hug at one point, but he knows better than that these days. As the others begin to disperse, and head back toward the door, he finally makes his way toward the girl. Her eyes now fall on him as he steps into place in front of her. The smile that stretches over his features in response is merely a reflex.

"Hey Ma-Ma-Marinette," He teases, watching the playful gleam dance in her blue bell eyes, "Welcome back."

"Hey Luka." She tucks some hair behind her ear, the slightest tinge of pink color dusting her cheeks. Momentarily separated from the rest of the group, there is something shared between the two young adults. Two pairs of blue eyes exchange silent promises of conversations to come. Luka feels the heat rush up the back of his neck as the memory of a video chat just prior to her departure from New York flashes through his mind.

* * *

 _"Finally got all my packing done!" The young graduate exclaimed from his laptop monitor as she happily panned the camera around her empty dorm room before swinging the computer back around to face herself. Luka grinned reflexively and leaned back into the pillows he had stacked up against his headboard._

" _Congrats on finally not procrastinating then. You're only leaving in what, three or four days?" He teased, feeling proud of himself as she pouted back at him in response._

" _That's still plenty of time!" Her tone, though whiny, sort of gives away the fact that she is aware it's all a rouse._

" _I don't think you could have come any closer." He chuckled at her as she stuck her tongue out at him._

" _Speaking of closer…" She trailed off, looking suddenly thoughtful, "I'm really excited to see everyone again. Alya is ready to drag me all over Paris to make up for 'lost time', as she says."_

" _You haven't been back since last Christmas. She's your friend and she misses you." He didn't even try to ignore the internal monologue, which had been mocking him by spitting back a 'speak for yourself' comment in his mind. It was right. He missed her. He missed her dearly._

" _Well," Marinette begun, playing with her hair and biting down on her lip, "She isn't the only one I have to do catching up with."_

 _Her tone made a shiver run along his spine, the allusion to her visit last December and their conversation from before she had left again clear. It felt strange to stare at her so indirectly through the screen of a device while bringing this up, but he knew that it was the only option present at the time._

" _That's right." He replied, affirming that he understood what she was getting at._

" _You gonna tell me what it was?" Sounding as frustrated as the expression on her face would have led one to believe she was, the girl flopped onto her back on the bare mattress of the dorm's small twin bed. A heavy and exasperated sigh passed over her lips as her eyes pierced him through the computer screen._

" _I will. When you're here." He offered up with a smirk and a racing heart._

* * *

As he boards the bus that will take them to the restaurant her parents have made reservations for the entire party, Luka can't help but let the conversation from that video call replay in his memories. He leans onto the window and stares out at the falling snow as the bus hisses and lurches into forward motion.

His memories of that evening are quite vivid. After the party, though he hadn't yet felt ready to say anything specific, he had told her there was something important he'd tell her down the line. When she pressed further, he'd told her that it would have to wait until after she'd graduated. As much as he'd wanted to let everything out in that moment as he stood on her parent's doorstep, preparing to leave after the Christmas celebration, he'd also known it wasn't the right time. It wasn't fair to bring up his feelings while an ocean and so many obligations separated them. With all that in mind, he knew there was no way that he could have given her the time and attention a relationship deserved.

Is the timing any better now? If you had asked Luka for the answer even a few minutes before her arrival, it would have been a swift 'yes.' Now, he's unsure. She may be back for good this time, but he still finds himself feeling hesitant. Not to diminish how they have both grown as people, he feels a little insecure having stayed rooted in one place while she'd been off exploring other countries and experiencing things he would only dream of. Apart from the video chats, in the midst of all she had been learning and doing, did she have the time to miss him? What does she think of someone who had the opportunity handed to them and had to let it go? It's hardly the first time he's had such thoughts. A small voice in the back of his head has been sounding the alarm for a long time. Every time she spoke with him on the phone or sent him a text message going on about a holiday where she'd traveled with friends to Las Vegas or Washington D.C. or some other place he'd only seen on post cards, he felt just that much more disconnected from her. Gradually, she seems to have become this unreachable being.

So, he does what he does every time thoughts like these begin to take hold of his mind. He shoves them all away. Marinette may be well-traveled, more confident and more mature, but she's still Marinette. She wouldn't hold such things against someone and he knows it. How is it that such a childish fear is so rooted within his mind?

As if she can sense his unease, the bluenette drops into the seat next to his. He glances at her, offering up a smile when he sees the worry in her expression.

"I thought we were celebrating." A small grin tugs up at the corner of her lip, but soon disappears.

"We are." Luka responds quietly. His tone betrays him immediately, not that he has really been trying hard to hide his inner turmoil.

"So why do you look so unhappy?" As soon as the question is out, he sees the realization flash into her gaze and knows what's coming next. "Is…everything okay with your mom?" It comes out in a whisper. Marinette is very aware of his boundaries when it comes to this sensitive topic. He simply doesn't like discussing such personal matters in public settings. The smile he offers feels like a counterfeit, even to him. He sees her face fall ever so slightly in response.

"Everything's fine." When he feels her hand come to rest over his, his smile widens. This time, it's much more authentic. Her concern touches him. "Honestly, right now things are good." It isn't a lie. At the moment, things are nearly normal within the Coffaine household.

"That's good to hear." She gives his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling back her arm and letting it rest in her lap with her other one. The loss of the warmth of her slender fingers is something he immediately mourns, but he takes no action to follow through on his feelings. For the second time today, his eyes line up with hers. "It's really good to see you again."

"So you missed me?" It is meant to come off as a tease, but he can tell she sees right through it. He's still not putting much effort into controlling his emotions. How can he? After all this time and distance, _especially_ given the childish fears and anxieties he'd been battling with for all these years, well, he almost needs to hear her say the words.

"Of course I did!" Leaning in close, she drapes one arm around Luka's shoulder, pulling him into a gentle embrace. He quickly copies the action, giving her shoulder a few slow pats just before she shifts back and out of the contact.

"It's really good to see you too." His heart is going a million miles an hour as he gazes into her shimmering blue eyes. Crammed into the small seats of public transport with all of her friends and family present isn't an ideal way to begin this sensitive conversation, but a promise is a promise. Heat creeps up the back of his neck as the smile she wears slowly dissolves into a more serious and expectant gaze. "Mari…" As the first two syllables of her name pass over his lips, the conversation brought to an abrupt halt. Holding her phone, Alya's head pops up from the seat behind theirs.

"Hey girl, you gotta see this video of Kim," She begins excitedly, then glances quickly between the two of them as she realizes she just interrupted something important. Her eyes search out and connect with Luka's, issuing a silent apology on contact, before she turns to look at her friend again. "It's pretty much viral now."

At this assertion, Marinette turns around in her seat and Luka follows suit, going through the motions of interest, but more or less faking it. As the video plays it seems to fade into the background more and more. He finds his eyes trail over to peek at the designer, who's laughing happily at whatever dumb thing Kim's doing in the video. Bit by bit, he loses himself in another time.

* * *

 _Amongst this group of young people, a trend had begun. Just as often as they all found the time, they would do a group video call and spend hours talking, playing games online and binge-watching TV and movies. This was where Luka found himself, locked in an intense online Settlers of Catan battle with Alya, Nino, Marinette, Rose and of course, Juleka. His sister was winning, being the total natural at games of strategy that she was. He struggled to understand it, and was tied for last place with poor Marinette, who was venting her frustrations aloud throughout most of the game._

" _I don't get any of this!" He tried his best not to laugh, but still ended up snorting when he heard Alya laughing at her friend. "Stop laughing at me!" She pouted through the monitor. It had come from a place of understanding and he felt bad seeing her get upset over it. "And why are you laughing at me Luka? You're losing too!" She stuck her tongue out as he smiled into the camera._

" _I know…" The musician responded, still laughing, "I guess we're both awful at this. It's just funny and...cute." The look Alya was giving him through the monitor didn't go unnoticed as Marinette smiled and sheepishly rubbed the back of her head._

 _After a few more minutes of Juleka sweeping the floor with the rest of them, the game ended and everyone began to say their goodbyes before leaving the chat. As he thought she would, Alya hung out for just a few seconds after Marinette had logged off. He sighed, not ready for yet another overprotective best friend lecture. He really didn't need to hear again about Marinette's feelings for Adrien. Luka had been very aware of her adoration for the model and it was hard enough trying to stamp down the jealousy without Alya giving him a hard time about it too. Alya had been amicable toward Luka from the beginning, but when it came to Marinette, there was always a bit of hostility that lingered just beneath the surface in the way she spoke and behaved when coming to what she saw as her friend's defense._

" _Luka…can I say something?" The curly-haired communications major began as Luka tried desperately not to roll his eyes or sigh. Alya was a nice girl and she meant well, but boy was he not in the mood for another stern warning tonight._

" _Alya…we've talked about this before and I respect that you care about Marinette but this is…" He didn't get the chance to get out the words that had been hanging on his lips since Marinette had left and these video calls began._

" _You've got it wrong actually," Looking a bit embarrassed as she cut him off, the young woman shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. Luka felt on eyebrow raise on impulse, curiosity flooding his senses. "Look…I'm sorry okay?" Certainly this was an unexpected turn of events. "I've been giving you such a hard time about this because I thought I knew what she wanted. But I was wrong."_

" _Are you saying that you are cool with me liking Marinette?" Luka questioned the girl, watching her brow crease._

" _Not only that," She offered a small smile and spent a few seconds in silence, looking as if she were debating something in her mind. "A lot changed after she left. I don't want to give away specifics because it's personal for her. I'll just say that I want her to be happy and maybe you'd be good for her. So, I kinda hope it works out for you."_

 _Luka was completely blown away by this sudden and unexpected change of heart and sat there like an idiot for a few seconds, just staring blankly into the camera. Whatever happened must have been big if it could change Alya's stubborn mind. "Wow…I don't know what to say."_

" _Anyway," She twisted some hair around her finger, "I gotta go. Later!" The video cut off abruptly before he could come up with a reply. Flabbergasted, the young man set his laptop aside and laid back on his bed, feeling both delighted and profoundly confused at the fact that he suddenly went from being politely tolerated to best friend approved. Though he had already deduced that something must have happened between Marinette and Adrien, he would have no idea just what exactly it was for some time._

* * *

They arrive at the restaurant and share a pleasant evening together, chatting idly, catching up and laying out plans for the next few weeks as Marinette makes her transition back into life in the city of love. Luka still finds himself lost in thought and though he is friendly and engages, his mind is simply else ware this evening.

After the meal Adrien excuses himself, heading out to the car his father sent to pick him up. Everyone else is quite content to move the social event to her parent's bakery. Luka tags along, wanting only to continue to be in her company a little while longer. While everyone else is mingling, the musician sits on her family's couch, sipping a soda that Tom had offered to him. This time when someone approaches him, it isn't Marinette, but his sister, Juleka.

"You were practically bouncing off the walls all week," She begins in her usual monotone, startling him out of his reverie, "now you aren't even gonna talk to her?" She takes a sip of her own drink as Luka looks up at her, starting to feel a bit bad that he's making so many people worry about him today.

"I am…" Trailing off, he sighs and runs a hand though his hair. "…there's just a lot to unpack. You know?"

"You don't have to be so worried. She'll hear you out." Juleka's dark eyes seem to peer into his soul as she stares at him. "I know she missed you. She probably wants to talk."

"I know." He offers up his best smile, willing everyone to stop worrying so much. All in good time. Taking the hint, Juleka gets up, patting her brother on the back before walking away to join the rest of the excited bunch gathered in honor of the recent graduate.

Getting up, Luka knows he has to join in at some point. He wanted to be here for her today, so he should be present, even if large social gatherings aren't really his thing. It's just harder than usual to focus his energy outward when there are so many memories bouncing around in his head. Trying not to focus on how he'd felt and the things that he'd wanted to say before she left all those years ago, Luka heads into the chaos of the party.

The afternoon passes into evening quickly and one-by-one, everyone begins to file out. He and Juleka call out quick goodbyes before stepping out the front door onto the street corner. As they walk, he can feel his sister's gaze on him and sighs, knowing that he's in for a scolding.

"You still didn't talk to her, did you?" The disappointment is clear as he turns to look at her.

When he says nothing to defend himself, his sister lets out a deep sigh. "Luka…"

"Juleka…I appreciate what you're trying to do, really. But, this is something I need to work out with her on my own." He loves his sister dearly and is aware that she means well with her scolding, but this is one of those times he really wishes that she'd just butt out. His feelings for Marinette and how he chooses to handle them are his business and even the good intentions of others are unwelcome interruptions. Even when those people with good intent are family.

"Marinette is my friend. You're my brother. You've been in love with her for years now. I just want to see you both be happy." She pushes the purple locks aside, her dark eyes piercing through the armor he'd constructed around himself at the start of this conversation.

"I will figure things out," He tries again, unwilling to compromise on this topic, "You have to let me deal with it on my own though."

"If you're going to tell me to back off then you better start acting instead of just saying you will." His sister's point is solid. He is well aware that any protests he may want to toss back at her will fall flat. So he doesn't, choosing instead to resume his pace from a few moments ago without even attempting a response. The late November breeze rustles leaves scattered about on the ground and Luka shivers, goosebumps raising up on his arms. Juleka, who lagged behind a moment after the abrupt ending of their conversation jogs to catch up with her older brother. "Look, I get that you don't want me bugging you about this anymore. So, I won't. But I remember what you were like after she left, and I don't want to see you drag your feet for another seven years. I'll only get off your case if you _get moving_. Life's short."

As if Luka needs another reminder of how fleeting and fragile human existence is. The memories of their own not-too-distant struggles are a constant reminder of just how close everyone is to the edge at all times. The two walk home in a neutral silence as Juleka texts Rose and Luka begins to contemplate an entirely different conversation he knows he needs to have with the blue-haired fashion designer.


	6. Drops of Jupiter -Part II

**Hey...is anyone still even coming to look at my stuff? It's been much longer than I expected, so I wouldn't be surprised if everyone completely gave up on seeing an update from me in the near future already. The last few months have been tough for me and my family, so I had to focus on that, but at long last, it's part 2 of Drops of Jupiter! I apologize for any errors made in this. I'm a bit on the rusty side since I haven't had the time and I honestly haven't felt like writing in quite a while. I hope everyone enjoys this story. I will try to continue with more stories as ideas present themselves and I will hopefully be uploading chapters more often.**

 _Only a moment ago he had come into the room with his letter from Julliard, ready to open it and find out what their response to him would have been. Only a moment ago he had been ecstatic at the possibility of studying music at such a prestigious school. Only a moment ago he had been so ready to pack all his things and attend college in the same city as the girl he liked. The prospect had been so alluring, only a moment ago. It was funny how one's entire world could change in only one moment._

" _Okay, well, thank you," He'd never heard his mother speak so dejectedly before. She hung up the phone, turning to look at her son, then released a heavy sigh. The hand that held his letter fell to his side, its contents forgotten as he saw the sorrow consuming her features._

" _What's wrong Mom?" He asked, feeling the dread wash over him at the defeated look on her face._

 _At that exact moment, Juleka caught up with him, still caught up in the excitement that she had shared with her brother when they had found the letter in the mailbox. "Luka got his…" As the heavy atmosphere washed over her and she glanced between her mother and brother, Juleka felt her words slowly begin to disintegrate as they fell from her lips. "…letter…what's…going on in here?"_

" _Kids," She began, motioning to the table, "You should sit down. There's something ya need to know."_

 _As if they could sense how easily breakable she suddenly was, both of them took a seat at the dinner table without any protest. They both listened carefully as she explained what had been going on for the last few months. Apparently, at a recent exam, a mass had been found and later it had been biopsied. The phone call Mrs. Coffaine had just ended was from her doctor's office. Then came the two words that destroyed their entire world in an instant. Breast Cancer. Malignant. Treatment was to begin shortly. Further recommendations would be forthcoming from the doctor. Consultations and office visits would need to be set up._

 _Whatever their mother said after those two words really didn't seem to matter anymore. She had cancer. Cancer. She would be starting treatment for cancer. His letter dropped out of his hand and onto the table as Juleka jumped out of her seat to wrap her mother in a hug, tears rolling down over her cheeks. He felt the tears sting at his eyes as he looked down at the letter and then back at his mother. It wasn't the time to share good news. It was time to let the grief wash over them, then dust off their nerves and steel their resolves for what laid ahead. Standing, he walked over and joined in what became a small group hug. A bittersweet moment of comfort and affection shared by a family of three._

" _Don't worry," Luka said, voice shaking. "We'll do everything we can."_

" _We're here for you mom…" His sister managed between sobs._

 _Later that night Luka found himself laying in bed, the still un-opened letter laying on his nightstand as the thoughts whirled around in his head. He glanced over at the envelope laying at his bedside, taking a moment to consider if he even wanted to know. He'd been going back and forth about it in his mind all afternoon. Sure, he was curious but in the face of the news he'd received that afternoon if seemed quite trivial. To be curt, really, what was the point in looking at it? Still, he found himself reaching out and picking it up. For a few seconds, he seriously considered just tossing it in the bottom drawer and forgetting about it. Somehow, the compulsion to know what the letter might say won out in the end. Quickly, he tore into the envelope and pulled out the contents, reading through before he could talk himself out of it._

 _Gritting his teeth, he felt utterly betrayed by life. Conversely, was it not a betrayal on his part to even care about the school with that afternoon's revelation in mind? He couldn't help but to feel that it was. Still, he was just so…angry. This ruined everything. All the time, all the work, all of the effort, wasted. The letter fell to ground as Luka let himself sink down into his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. How wrong was it to feel so angry when this wasn't even his struggle? This was her struggle. She was sick. She was his mom. There were more important factors in play now than his own personal feelings and desires. Yet even in spite of how aware he was of those things, waves of anger and guilt took turns battling for the dominant place among his other emotions. He was convinced he must be the worst person on Earth._

 _Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his back pocket and pulled it out to see the screen displaying a message from Marinette._

 _(_ _ **Marinette 7:53pm:**_ _Did your letter come yet?)_

 _Biting down onto his lower lip, he tried desperately to keep the tears stinging his eyes at bay. It was as if Marinette somehow knew exactly the right time to reach out to him. Whether it was intention, intuition or coincidence, Luka was grateful for the timing of her message. He hadn't realized until precisely that moment how desperately he needed someone to talk to. Even if he didn't confide in her, hearing a friendly voice would really help. He quickly typed out the only thing that he could think of._

 _(_ _ **Luka 7:54pm:**_ _Would it be okay if I call you?)_

 _(_ _ **Marinette 7:55pm:**_ _Sure.)_

 _His thumb pressed call within a second of receiving her text. She picked up right away and Luka had to use all of his inner strength to keep his voice steady. This phone call wasn't about causing the poor girl undue stress._

" _Hey!" Marinette bellowed excitedly, bringing a small smile to his face despite all the negativity that surrounded him. "Sooooo…what's the verdict?"_

" _I…got accepted…" His voice trailed off into the silence of his bedroom as she listened to her excited squeal from the other end of the line. The sigh fell from his lips before he could stop it and his ears burned as he realized he'd just given himself away._

" _Wait," She paused, her voice dropping down an octave or two, "Why do you sound so…disappointed?"_

" _I…" Suddenly, his resolve crumbled. He felt his hand begin to tremble as he gripped the phone. He tried to bite back the uneven breaths that came as a precursor to sobs, his shoulders beginning to shake. His lower lip trembled with the effort it took to remain even minimally functional. Once the first few tears fell, though, Luka knew he was done for. Soft sobs quickly overtook him as he hung his head in shame and sorrow, both sorry he was making her worry and angry at the entire situation. He heard the small surprised gasp through the phone line and bit his lip, suddenly regretting this phone call. "I-I…"_

" _Luka," Her soft voice stills him, "you can talk to me if you want. I'll listen."_

" _Mom…" He felt the tears rolling down over his cheeks as he forced himself to get the words out. "My mom…has cancer. I…I'm sorry I worried you…I just…" But words ended up completely failing him._

 _The line had gone silent for a moment after the words were out in the open. Luka wondered to himself if she simply didn't know what to say. Would it be so strange? Lots of people distance themselves from friends who are going through things like this simply because they have no idea how to speak to or behave around them._

" _Is it okay if I come over? You sound like you need more than just a phone call." At this soft-spoken question, Luka felt a warmth wash over his body. Of course, Marinette wasn't like most people. When someone truly needed support, comfort or a helping hand, she was always the first to offer it. He smiled through the pain, some of the weight lifting off his shoulders. A 'yes' came flying out of his mouth almost immediately._

* * *

After arriving home, the pair head to their mother's cabin to check on the woman and afterwards Luka helps his sister prepare dinner. With the large meal they'd had earlier in the day and all the snacks from the party that had lasted most of the afternoon still in their systems, neither of them feel particularly hungry. Still, they sit with their mother at the dinner table and happily chat about how their time with the Dupain-Chengs had been.

Once clean-up is complete, Luka retreats to his room, flopping down on his bed and letting out a deep sigh of frustration. He knows that his sister had been right in saying he is spending too much time idling on this issue. His feelings for Marinette are something he's carried in his heart for a long time and he's angry with himself for not having the guts to just bring it up in a conversation. Staring at his bedroom ceiling and internally lamenting his own inaction, he feels his phone buzz in his back pocket. Initially, he makes a conscious decision to ignore the message for now and look into it later, but when the phone buzzes again and again and he realizes that it's a phone call, he pulls the device from his pocket and glances at the screen. Marinette's name appears across the screen and he sits up, pressing the button to answer almost instinctively.

"Hi." Her soft voice floats into his ear from the receiver. He can hear Jagged Stone music floating around in the background before it fades off into Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me." Hearing it makes him remember all the exchanges of songs that took place while she'd been away. It's nice to hear that some of his favorite things stuck with her after all this time.

"Hey." Scooting back, he shoves a pillow against his head board and leans onto it.

"Are you okay?" The worry in her voice makes Luka bite down on his lip.

"I'm fine…why do you ask?" A rhetorical question. He's acutely aware of why she's concerned about him and the guilt is mounting at the idea that he spent all day today making her worry about him when she should have been enjoying a happy reunion with loved ones.

"Because you hardly talked to me at all today and…you left without saying a word." This time in her tone there is obvious hurt. The guilt only builds up more and he frowns at the thought that he has upset her. He opens his mouth to explain, stopping when he hears her begin to speak again. "Did I do something that made you angry? If so…just tell me. You know that you can tell me when something is bothering you, right? Even if it's my fault…well, actually _especially_ if it's my fault! I can't do anything to change it if…"

"Whoa!" He cuts into to her rambling, jumping into action to stop the stream of worry pouring through the receiver and into his ear. If there's one thing she's gained from her experiences abroad, it's the ability to say whatever is on her mind. If she's thinking it and feels it needs to be said, there's a good chance it's coming out of her mouth unfiltered. Especially in the case that she is worried or upset. "Hang on…it's okay. We're good. You haven't done anything and I'm not mad."

"Okay…" Her voice trails off, "Then what's going on? You weren't acting like yourself."

Closing his eyes, Luka releases a deep breath and leans his head back onto the headboard. How many years has he been preparing himself for this eventual conversation? He's stalled long enough. It's time to take a step forward. Biting the bullet, Luka finally puts his thoughts into real words. It's so small, but its more action than he has taken in a positive direction for some time.

* * *

 _The two young people stepped out onto her parent's small front porch. Marinette offered a wide smile, face looking redder by the minute in the cold winter air._

 _"Tonight was fun. Thanks for inviting me." Face red for different reasons, his mind was sorting through all the things he knew needed to be said. It was no secret that for many months now, their relationship had evolved into something completely new. As yet, neither of them had brought up the strange dynamic between them and he knew for sure that it would still be a considerable amount of time before it would be addressed. Her feet shuffled in the moment of silence that hung in the air between them and he smiled, hoping it would help ease her nerves. She shot a small smile his way, but he knew better than to assume it meant she felt completely calm._

 _"Y-yeah. Of course," She squeaked out, then bit down on her lip and fidgeted with the collar of her coat._

 _"We're...friends right?" Not that he wanted to reinforce the status-quo, the musician instead hoped her answer would help temper his concerns about the next question he would ask. Her features fell ever-so-slightly in response to his question and he felt it as a similar expression settled over his features. It was just possible that there had been hints of a deeper connection between them for some time now, but, for the time being, friendship was as far as he was willing to let this go._

 _"Y-yes...we are." Disappointment not well masked, her blue bell eyes shone brightly in the artificial light of the streetlamps as she trailed off into the silence of the snowy night, patiently awaiting whatever words he still had yet to speak. Standing before the young woman on that cold and snowy December night, he knew there were so many words he wanted to speak. But he also knew it wasn't time. The many obligations and busy schedules they were both juggling – to say nothing of the entire ocean that separated them- were to be handled as a priority. So yes, as much as he wanted to be completely honest with her, Luka bit back the extra words._

 _In spite of his otherwise steely resolve, he needed to understand where she exactly where she stood. Surely there was no harm in having at least that much reassurance, right? The day would come when the time would be right to have a real discussion, but in the meanwhile, some clarity would be good for both young people._

 _"Marinette," His blue eyes sought out her own embarrassed ones as Luka asked the question that had been on his mind for several weeks, "If you don't mind me asking...what happened between you and Adrien?" After Alya's unexpected admission and acceptance of him at the end of that video chat gaming session, curiosity had been eating away at him. Her silence would have made someone who didn't know her as well think they had overstepped a barrier. But he knew how easily she could be caught off guard. He knew her well enough to know she was very likely just taking time to let the question sink in and consider a response. If he was interpreting her words, actions and behaviors correctly, this was not a question she'd feel terribly put off by. It even appeared briefly as though there were much more she wanted to say._

 _"I told him that I liked him." The reply was simple enough, but he could see in her ever-increasing nervous fidgeting what anxiety she felt saying those words. "I also told him...that now there's someone else." This time, he could see the meaning flashing in her eyes as snowflakes caught in her lashes. It was clear who she was talking about. His heart did a flip in his chest._

 _"Oh," He wanted to say so many things. So. Many. Things. But he just wasn't ready yet. Again, he reminded himself to keep a clear mind and think rationally. Too many other priorities. Not now. Just be patient. "I see. Well, in that case, there's something that I need to talk to you about."_

 _"What is it?" Those imploring blue bell eyes very nearly broke him as she stared up at him with great interest._

 _"I can't right now. But once you're done with school, I promise we'll talk." He hoped she'd understand. Her face fell ever so slightly as she stared up at him._

 _"Oh," Just as soon as the disappointment had crept into her features, it vanished, replaced by one of her usual smiles. "I understand Luka."_

* * *

What he doesn't need now is a repeat of that moment. He needs to gather his courage, let go of the anxieties that have been building over the last few years and be proactive.

"What's the next day you're free?" Again, not much, but it's still a start.

"Saturday…I think. Why? And are you gonna answer…" Without thinking, he cuts her off again.

"Let's go somewhere together," He runs a hand through his hair, feeling his ears burn. "Just the two of us." He hears the gasp that passes over her lips from the other end of the line.

"That sounds great," The genuine pleasure in her voice gives him courage, "But you still didn't…"

"I know. This is something I'd rather talk about…in person. If that's okay with you." There is a short silence from the other end of the phone line before he hears Marinette begin to giggle. When she finally does speak, Luka can hear the smile in the tone of her voice.

"I get it. Meet me in Champ de Mars around noon then? We can decide what we're doing after we meet." He's heard this tone in her voice before. It's difficult to assign a characteristic to it, but he knows it well and it means he's done something right. With the main concern finally put into words, Luka feels himself finally relax into the pillow and smiles into the receiver.

"Sounds good. So, what are you up to tonight?" The conversation goes on for some time, composed mostly of light-hearted banter.

Saturday seems to come around quicker than he expects it to and he pulls on a pair of blue jeans and his favorite Fleetwood Mac tee-shirt before checking his hair in his bedroom mirror. As he plays with the highlighted strands, he finds himself wondering absently if he should put on any cologne. Heading to his bathroom, he finds an old bottle of a generic store brand and sprays just a little into the air inside the room, wanting to be sure it smells okay before he sprays some on his shirt as well. It isn't until he leaves the bathroom that he begins to wonder if she'll think he's trying too hard. Turning to pace back toward the bathroom and grabbing the hem of his shirt, he hears a small laugh come from the doorway. A wave of heat rolls up the back of his neck as he turns to see his sister leaning on the door frame, looking more than a little amused.

"How long have you been there?" His ears burn with shame as Juleka takes a few steps toward him, still smiling in amusement. Her hands fall onto his shoulders and their eyes lock.

"Long enough. She isn't gonna care if you have cologne on and you know it." A brief refrain from the anxiety that had such a strong hold on him only a moment ago. She's right, after all. He slowly nods at his younger sibling, embarrassed that he let his nerves get the better of him. As he tries to stamp down his frazzled nerves, Luka is roughly pulled into a tight embrace. "You had to let go of so much to help mom and I and we both appreciate everything." Before he has a chance to respond to the comfort or the sweet words his sibling just offered, she shoves him back, swinging her petite form into the space directly behind him and shoves his shoulders so that he has to take a few awkward steps forward to gain his balance back. Puzzled at her forward and somewhat out of character behavior, Luka stares at Juleka who simply shrugs and offers a coy smile. "Just go sort it out already and be happy."

Chuckling to himself, he grabs his jacket and heads up on deck. He takes his time walking to the park, knowing that he had left earlier than he needed to in his anticipation. Despite the small pep talk from Juleka and all the time he's spent building himself up to this upcoming moment, he still can't help the small flashes of uncertainty he feels. Though he knows better, the same insecurities are buzzing about in his mind as have been there for the last few years. How do you even quell irrational fears anyway? Things like 'what if she thinks I'm boring' or 'what if she's grown out of it', aren't they so hard to ignore _because_ they're irrational fears?

He finds the girl hanging out on a bench near the outskirts of the park, wrapped up in a cozy sweater with her bag in her lap and a book in her hands. As he approaches, he realizes that the book she's so engrossed in is a Neil DeGrasse Tyson writing titled "Origins." That reminds him that at some point during the second semester of her first year, she had really gotten into these kinds of non-fiction books. His mind suddenly recalls seeing lots of similar works strewn about her desk and dorm room during their numerous video calls. She'd even been reading a few at the start of some conversations. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he hopes to greet her without startling her.

"Hey there," She jumps in response and his shoulders slump a bit, but he still grins. So much for not scaring her. "Good book?" He swings his body around and flops into the empty space beside her as she calms herself.

"Jeez Luka…you scared me!" Using the book as a weapon of sorts, she smacks him on the shoulder.

"Sorry," He chuckles, then playfully leans in, intentionally nudging her shoulder with his own, "But I wasn't the one so lost in my book that I totally checked out, to be fair."

She closes the book quickly, stowing it away in her bag and slinging her bag over her shoulder. Standing, she reaches out and offers him her hand, which he takes, though he doesn't need help up. Now fully balanced, he moves to pull his hand out of hers and is surprised to feel her fingers squeeze his. His eyes follow hers as they trail down to her fingers clasped over his and then slowly meets her eyes again. She offers a shy smile before speaking. He feels his heart rate pick up as she slowly threads her fingers through his.

"Is it okay with you if I _don't_ let go?" Her fingers are hot as she grasps his hand.

"Yeah, it's fine." In fact, it's more than okay. Funny how with a few little words and the smallest of gestures, she is able to stave off his insecurities just like that. The pair begins to walk through the park, Marinette entertaining him with idle chatter. The warmth of the November sun warms him as he walks hand-in-hand with the young woman and lets his mind wonder back in time as he listens to her stories.

* * *

" _What are you reading?" He asked into the camera, leaning his head into his hand and waiting for her to look up and respond. Based upon similar interactions in the past, Luka knew it may take a while to get her attention. "Hey Marinette…" He drawled out in a sing-song tone, finally getting her to look up._

 _As soon as her eyes fell upon the screen, the girl immediately became quite flustered, tossing out several quick apologies before closing her book and setting it aside. Even through thousands of miles and a computer screen he could see how red her face was as she looked nervously into the camera. The laughter overtook him before he could do anything about it, the burst of amusement so strong that he couldn't stop even when he heard her begin to protest._

" _Don't laugh at me!" She complained, the indignant look in her eyes only making matters worse for the young man as he desperately tried to collect himself._

" _I-I'm not," He trailed off into another short fit of laughter, trying not to look at the screen for a moment._

" _Don't say you aren't laughing at me as you laugh at me you jerk!" Came another protest from the girl as Luka began to get himself back under control._

" _Sorry Marinette…I swear I wasn't making fun…" Just as he'd begun to formulate a sensible reply, another girl, whom he knew as her housemate appeared in the background. Glanced at the screen for only a second before turning away, smiling to herself as she slipped into a coat that had just been hanging on the door._

" _Hey Mari, are you gonna be done talking to your cute friend soon so we can go?" Luka, while it wasn't the first time someone had ever hit on him so openly, still found himself feeling flushed as Marinette turned back to her friend, looking nearly as flustered as he felt. After their conversation from her Christmas visit, the dynamic had changed between them. Though nothing specific was ever said, their interactions had changed. She had begun to treat him with a certain intimacy that hadn't been so evident before. Other recent discussions on video camera floating around in his brain, he eyed Marinette's body language carefully. The way she squirmed anxiously and her fingers tightly gripped the hem of her shirt, he had to wonder if her thoughts might have been echoing her friend's opinion._

" _Dani!" She scolded, her ears looking red as she turned back to the camera. "Sorry about that Luka. I guess I forgot we were going somewhere tonight. I should go get ready."_

" _That's fine," He couldn't help the sudden pit that he had in his stomach at the idea of her out alone at night in an unfamiliar city. He knew she could take care of herself, but so many things could go wrong. That's not even getting into how conflicted he felt about all the attention she might get from other romantic interests. A little flash of jealousy surged within as he maintained his smile on the surface. "Meeting anyone special?"_

 _At the word, he saw the way she froze up. Perhaps it had been wrong to ask. He shuffled uncomfortably in the short silence as Marinette stared at him through the camera._

" _No…" The young woman finally replied, easing his nerves if even just a little. "Just meeting some friends from class…" Another short silence. After a moment of introspection, Marinette finally looked into the camera again, her eyes serious. "And…the only 'special' person isn't here, unfortunately. Anyway, I gotta go. Bye Luka. I'll text you later."_

 _The video call ended abruptly, leaving him stunned._

* * *

Her voice breaks into his train of thought and he turns to look at the girl. "I just realized you came here to talk to me and I've just been going off on a tangent this whole time…hahaha…sorry." Her feet stop moving as the pair paces along the sidewalk. He has to wonder when they had even exited the park. Turning, she looks up at him, gaze pointed, eyes inquisitive. Luka takes a breath as he feels his heart rate begin to pick up. His grip on her hand tightens as he pulls her off to the inside of the sidewalk and out of the path of passersby. "What… _did_ you want to talk about?"

"Remember Christmas? This is about that night...and...you've waited too long already." All outward appearances may point to a calm and collected young man, and all outward appearances point in the _wrong_ direction. His heart feels like it might explode. His throat is dry. Are his palms perhaps a bit clammy as well? Those words had come flying out of mouth unbidden. No time is left to consider words or come up with an eloquent way to say everything on his mind. He's basically just winging it at this point.

"I remember." Blue bell eyes watch him intently as he idles in front of his companion.

How to even begin? What is most important? There are just so many thoughts to sort through. He has no freaking clue what's best. Any phrase he's ever conjured up in his private thoughts is suddenly just gone. Poof. Vanished. He stands before her now with no words to offer and everything to say. Taking a deep breath, the musician steadies himself.

"First of all…I don't think I ever thanked you." These were the easiest words to get out first, so this is where he decides he will start. Looking confused, she arches one eyebrow at him.

"For what?" Though she looks and sounds genuinely confused, he must wonder how she can be so unaware of what an impact she's had on him.

"When I…first found out about my mom's cancer, that night you came over and spent time with Juleka and I. Maybe it didn't seem like you were doing much, but it meant a lot. You're kinda one in a million, you know? You could have avoided the topic or distanced yourself like people do when they don't know what to say, but you stuck with me- with _my mom and sister_ through all of it. Even when you were so far away. So, thank you." His thumb gently brushes against the back of her hand as she offers him another bright smile. The words don't seem to do the true depth of his feelings justice, but the words are all he has, so they'll have to do.

"That's what you do when you care about someone." The sweet words and the bright smile encourage him as he prepares to continue. Another deep breath. _'You've made it this far,'_ his brain spits at him, _'don't quit now!'_

"I also want to say thank you for not saying anything to my mom and Juleka about Julliard. I did tell them eventually, but things were rough for a while and I didn't want them feeling guilty about it. I…" He bites his lip, suddenly a little overwhelmed by his own emotions. The gentle squeeze of her fingers around his snaps him out of it immediately. "I just appreciate you giving me the time to take care of things on my own, even though I know you don't like keeping secrets."

"Well…you're welcome. But I was just doing what a person who cares about you would do." She maintains her position from her last response, her smile now softer. Someone who cares about him, huh? It sort of makes him wonder.

"That's a great Segway into the other thing I wanted to talk about, actually," a sudden rush of adrenaline overtakes him and the words come tumbling out in a bit of a rush as Marinette watches him with an expectant gaze, "I've loved you all this time. At first, I knew you were interested in someone else, so I didn't want to take that from you. Then we got closer as time went on but I couldn't say this while we were both in school, in different countries with so many things we both needed to focus on but now I…" _Need you to hear me say it_. The words are lost as the musician is abruptly cut off by a surprise kiss from the young woman in front of him. Luka abandons his train of thought and leans into the affection, returning it enthusiastically. He feels her soft fingers running through his hair and trailing along behind the curve of his ear as they begin to move back out of the kiss. The warmth of her fingers is such a stark contrast to the cool evening air that the hair on the back of his neck stands on end for a few short seconds. His heart is beating a million miles a minute in his chest as her warm, blue bell eyes gaze up at him. A soft smile ghosts her features before she speaks up.

"I love you too. I think you know that by now though. I haven't really made a secret out of it or anything." Her eyes flash with amusement as her grip on his hand tightens. "Why don't we go get some lunch or something?" She finally asks, breaking the spell cast by their admissions.

Before either of them realizes it, he's dropping her off at her parent's front door, time seemingly having evaporated as they had spent the afternoon together. Leaning in, the young man places his lips against hers, a moment of short-lived perfection interrupted by the front door suddenly swinging open. For a split second, Luka feels the color drain from his face as he looks up to see Marinette's overprotective father towering over the two of them, then is drawn into the man's arms in an almost painful embrace that about knocks all the air from his lungs.

"Congratulations, both of you!" He bellows, releasing Luka, who takes in a few deep breaths as he desperately tries to recover from the surprise attack. As Luka's wits begin to return to him, Sabine steps out from beside Tom, wrapping the young man in another -this time much less uncomfortable- celebratory embrace.

"We were beginning to wonder if this would ever happen!" Sabine's knowing smile causes him to freeze up in place just as he had started to get over the initial shock of her parents appearing at the door during the kiss he'd been sharing with their daughter. His eyes snap to Marinette, who doesn't look nearly as shocked as he is. Her shoulders rise and fall in response to the questioning stare before she responds.

"They're my parents. I tell them things." In retrospect, this isn't that surprising. Marinette was always close to her family, so of course these types of things would be discussed openly in her home.

Before his brain formulates a witty reply or a tease, he finds himself swiftly ushered inside the lobby of the bakery for what Tom and Sabine are calling 'celebratory dinner,' and some drinks. It's a wonderful night full of many questions, banter and good food and it- like the rest of the day he had spent with his new girlfriend- seems to end all too soon.


	7. Sound of Silence

**Sorry for another long wait. This particular story is framed around something I have trouble with myself. The 'dreams' that Marinette is experiencing are actually hallucinations that occur in a semi-conscious state and the condition is called sleeping paralysis. It is tied to some sleep disorders, like narcolepsy, but, lucky for me, it can be caused by many different things. It can happen at a higher frequency if my mind is hyperactive before falling asleep, such as when I am overworked or stressed out. I guess the poor sleep is part of the reason for my infrequent uploads, but, still I hope everyone finds this enjoyable.**

The room is silent as a young woman lay snuggled up against her cat body pillow, desperately searching for that oh-so-hard-to-come-by deep sleep she's been on a constant hunt for these last few weeks. Between the overwhelming yet still rewarding bakery tasks, endless schoolwork and secretly saving Paris nearly every day, any chance at a few moments of silence and tranquility is most welcome -despite the...let's call them _drawbacks_. And even in spite of these unspecified pitfalls, especially when considering that her busy schedule has left her stressed and mostly without a spare moment for relaxation of _any_ variety, this rare opportunity for an afternoon nap had been too good to pass up. One might wonder what could be the drawback or the pitfall of a much needed nap. To anyone else, a deep and undisturbed slumber may sound like paradise. This is true of her too. With confidence, this young lady can say that as overworked, exhausted, stressed out as she is, she would love nothing more than to have some semblance of peace in her life. Unfortunately lately, she's been unable to find solace even in the supposed comfort of her own mind.

The silence, seemingly peaceful just moments prior, is shifting into a nauseating mixture of oppressive and eerie. It's as if she's slowly suffocating, drowning in a lake of lukewarm water and lost in a vast emptiness all at once. Her eyes dart around her bedroom, which appears on the surface to be the same as it ever is -all the same books in the same places, all the same decorations on the walls-except she _knows_ something is wrong. Something stalks her from the shadows, creeping quietly just beyond the edges of her peripheral vision, drawing ever closer as she opens her mouth to call for rescue, only to realize that she is not able to produce a single sound. Her mind switches from fight to flight in an instant, unsure why she can't call for help but sure that running is her only salvation. This is the moment she realizes she is also unable to make her body move. As the presence looms ever closer, she desperately struggles, racing with all her might to make her unresponsive body comply with her brain's command to run or cry out for rescue, but nothing will come.

As she continues her mental struggle, terrified and reeling from the realization that she lacks any control of her own body, she can tell the presence is nearly on top of her, waiting to consume her, harm her…or do whatever nefarious thing it has planned. Everything seems as if it's coming to a swift end until…her eyes open?

As consciousness sets in, her heart begins to thud in her chest and she sits up, suddenly somehow regaining control over her movements. The teenager glances around her perfectly normal room, which now lacks any trace of the terrifying monster that seemed so real only seconds ago. Arms trembling and breaths rapid and shaky, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and releases a heavy sigh. _'You've gotta be kidding,'_ her mind tosses out venomously, _'I can't even have one normal nap?'_

Needless to say now, each time the young hero closes her eyes, she is plagued with nightmares of this type. Sometimes they will go on and on as many times as she wakes up and then, exhausted, falls asleep once more. Rinse, repeat. Up to fifteen times in a single night. Is it any wonder she now considers sleep to be both a precious commodity and a menace? One second you are resting comfortably after a trying day and the next, something terrifying you can't quite see is after you, intending harm. You know to run, to call out for aid, but you no longer have such capabilities. Surely the problem with sleep is now clearly illustrated.

Irritated, she rubs at her eyes, heaving another heavy sigh. Sliding off the side of the bed and into a standing position, Marinette hears her kwami stir beside her. "Marinette?" The small red and black creature called Tikki softly questions, concerned for her friend. Hovering up and leveling beside her friend, the creature's expression now matches her tone. "You look troubled."

Marinette doesn't respond at first, simply grinning in response to the flow of warmth that overcomes her knowing that her friend, her kwami is always here to offer support. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, noting upon turning on the screen that it's only 3:30pm. After that fun little experience, the bluenette acutely is aware there will be no more shut eye to be had here today. Nothing to do for the rest of the afternoon unless -dare she even think it- something comes up with Hawkmoth. There's plenty of early spring daylight left. It might not be a bad idea to go out for a walk, maybe get some coffee or try and get inspired to do some sketching -but first a shower is in order.

"Marinette?" The kwami questions again, prompted into another inquiry by the teenager's lack of a response.

"I'm fine Tikki," Comes her reply a second later with a tired but nonetheless genuine smile, "Just a bad dream. I think I'll get cleaned up and go for a walk. Wanna come?"

"Sure Marinette, just let me know when you're ready!" Cheery as ever, Tikki then snuggles back up on her partner's cat body pillow and shuts her eyes.

Marinette walks along the side walk, hands in the pockets of her shorts, sans Tikki. She came back in to find her kwami in a deep sleep on the body pillow and unable to wake up the creature, had left without her. The young fashion designer not only knows the importance of good, regular sleep now that she's been this long without it, but she figures Tikki must be equally tired with all of the akuma activity and battles lately. Hawkmoth does seem to have a pattern of one victim at a time -or two victims merged in the case of oblivio -a more recent defeat of Ladybug and Cat Noir's- so Marinette figures a short walk can't hurt too much.

Even super villains must occasionally have other tasks to attend to, right? Must be more to that life than looking at one's schedule going 'Oh, guess I'll have to move brunch on Thursday, otherwise my schedule will be too full for nefarious plots.' One can only assume that Hawkmoth is some regular -albeit deluded and misguided person- with an ordinary life outside of being the bad guy every minute of every day.

The whole of her walk is quiet and thoughtful, the sounds of the city fading around her until only the faint sound of the breeze seems to register in her mind. Funny how easy it can be to relax when she isn't actively trying to sleep. Go figure. Stopping by a quiet coffee shop, she purchases the strongest iced coffee she sees on the menu and slowly sips on it while meandering through the Paris streets. ' _Well_ ,' she figures, ' _as long as I can't sleep anyway, I might as well over caffinate myself.'_ The drink doesn't last long and doesn't seem to aid much in her quest to feel a bit more awake so she discards the empty plastic container in a nearby wastebasket and waits for the signal to allow her to cross the street. The river is close by after all, maybe the quiet sound of the gently flowing water will help to keep her in the relaxed state of mind created by the quiet afternoon and her tired brain.

Lost in the quiet musings of her own mind, Marinette slumps into one of the benches along the Parisian street, overwhelmed by her exhaustion as her body eases into the seat. This is what happens when every night she wakes up in a panic and can't fall asleep for two hours afterward. If, that is, she manages to fall back asleep at all. That's to say nothing of how a simple nap can turn into a wasteland full of nightmares where no peace from the stress of the day can be found. Apparently, it all leads up to winding up a frustrated, stressed, exhausted teenager parked on a random Paris bench, contemplating the matters that seem almost eternally hopeless.

A yawn overtakes her facial features as she relaxes back into the seat and watches pigeons eating some bird seed that had likely been scattered there earlier in the day by tourists. Her mind begins to wonder if she's ever going to have a good night's sleep again when a familiar male voice breaks through the echo chamber of her thoughts. The voice seems to be coming from above, so her gaze turns upward and her eyes fall upon a certain blue eyed musician leaning over the bow of his mother's house boat, sporting a look of pleasant surprise.

"Hey!" He calls, smiling down at her as the gears begin to turn in her head. This is the same guy who only two and a half weeks ago had confessed he had feelings for her, in possibly the most gorgeous and poetic way she's ever heard. Her face fills with color as she looks up at him and waves, before she finally can't take it anymore and averts her gaze. How is she going to muster up the energy to speak normally with someone who flat out declared their love while she's in this sorry, borderline decrepit state? Especially when that someone is also an attractive, talented, compassionate and funny guy who she is already aware she has some feelings of her own for.

Before she has time to let these thoughts consume her, the boy has taken a seat beside her on the bench, his gentle smile so infectious that even as out of it as she is right now, she can't help but return it.

"It's been a while," His head dips ever so slightly to one side as if to signal a silent question, the same calm expression and gentle smile never fading once. "I didn't make you feel uncomfortable being around me, did I?" Though she had been going with the flow until this point, his tone gives her pause. Now called to attention, Marinette studies the small details that didn't stand out to her before. The tension in his expression is so much more obvious on closer examination, the way his lip curls downward ever so slightly, the slight crease in his brow and the worry reflecting back at her from those oceanic eyes of his. She is struck by the thought that Luka is concerned over this sort of thing. Really, she knows she shouldn't be. She knows how she would feel if the roles were reversed. It's just hard to picture the calm, cool, collected guy who meditates as a hobby and makes playing an instrument look easy becoming anxious over a romantic gesture. And _this_ is the guy who thinks she's avoiding him because she doesn't want to answer? Or because she doesn't want to hurt him by turning him down? Okay, maybe she had been a bit surprised when he had told her she was like a song that had been playing in his head since they met, but she wasn't put off by it.

In fact, she was elated to hear Luka's feelings might reflect her own. Even thinking about it now makes her heart rate pick up and her face flush, but she doesn't find herself becoming a blithering mess like she would with Adrien. Maybe it's only because this is the first guy she's liked who has showed interest in return. It could be, looking at the situation from a place of cynicism. Never one to consider herself an overly-cynical person, Marinette can't help but think maybe this new, less intense and more comfortable atmosphere that comes about naturally as a result of spending time with Luka is how it should feel to be around someone you have feelings for.

Currently, she finds herself experiencing a lot of complex and confusing emotions, as it now seems she has feelings for two different people at the same time. So, sure, she's willing to at least admit she doesn't really know how to respond at present, and thinking about what to do in response to his confession in addition to her other obligations is very likely adding to her stress. But feeling awkward enough to avoid him? Or feeling angry or uncomfortable? No, of course not. That's just silly.

"N-no…I've just been busy…" Her words are divided by a yawn, "…lately…" It is quickly followed up by a second yawn.

Her eyes trail away from his face when she feels the pressure of his fingers fall onto her shoulder. "Luka?" Blue bell orbs once again line up with electric blue.

"Are you okay?" He questions, studying her carefully, slowly scanning each detail of her face in search of any small clue that may help him understand. "You look terrible."

Biting her lip, a sinking feeling floods her stomach and she dips her head slightly in acknowledgement. She is aware she's not in top form right now, but there really isn't a need to highlight her unkempt hair and wrinkled clothing. I mean, how good can a person look running on what must equate to 10 total hours of sleep in 3 weeks? "Thanks." She mutters, feeling both a bit offended and a little disappointed that Luka would make such a superficial comment on someone's outward appearance. At least, she never pegged him as the sort of guy to draw attention to other people's insecurities.

"S-sorry!" The look of regret tells her it was but a misunderstanding. One of his uncouth moments, where one thing was meant, but another was spoken. The young woman trains her attention on her friend, attempting to suppress another yawn. "I meant...you look tired. I know sometimes I'm not good at being clear."

"R-right." She offers her best smile. A ghost of an expression, really. Her reply is soft, quiet and she can muster little else. "I am a little tired I guess."

"You can tell me about it, if you want. Maybe I can help?" He encourages her softly, the same gentle smile taking over his features. A breeze catches his hair at just the right moment, framing the angles of his cheekbones perfectly as she looks up at him. Even in her exhausted state, she feels the heat rush up the back of her neck and wash over her nose and cheeks. Boy is he good looking. "I'll listen."

"It's not really a big deal…" A blatant falsehood. Not sleeping for three weeks is a very big deal. But should she be troubling him with these matters? Even though she's sure it would help ease some of her anxieties to talk openly with someone, she knows he must have his own worries. He has his own schoolwork, his work with the band and his own family obligations. She would regret becoming an imposition.

"It is though...if you're not feeling well, you can come up on deck and lay down for a bit. I'm sure mom would let you take a nap in one of our extra cabins..." His comments trail off into the sound of the light spring breeze. She can see him studying her, awaiting a response, but she finds herself fresh out of words. It's nice of him to offer and boy does a nap ever sound fantastic, but, at the same time…even if she does sleep, she's probably bound to run into the same dilemma that led her to this point of exhaustion in the first place.

Her gaze is averted, but she feels it as Luka begins to pull away stand up. Realizing his intention is to leave, it seems her mind is made up for her. She finds herself taking hold of his arm before she realizes she's reached toward him. Both teenagers surprised by this action, a moment of silent eye contact is exchanged before Luka shifts his weight back into a sitting position beside the young lady. Marinette can feel the heat rushing to her cheeks again as he shoots her that same tender, knowing smile. As nervous as is she is about unloading all of her mundane troubles onto a friend, she also knows she doesn't have it in her to refuse this offer of help. Nor does she fancy being alone at the moment. Maybe speaking the words aloud will in some way alleviate her distress. When she considers that Luka will be the one to hear her worries, she even begins to feel a little lighter, as if a weight she'd been carrying is suddenly lifted away.

Bearing all of that in mind, she launches into a vivid description of everything that's been happening over the last several weeks, leaving out no detail. From the feeling of being overworked to the terrifying creature stalking her in her nightmares, she tries to be as clear describing all of it as she is able, omitting the parts that revolve around her time as Ladybug. Luka sits quietly beside her and watches, nodding in response and listening patiently. As her rant begins to come to a close, she notices that Luka's hand is gently rubbing her shoulder in an attempt at comfort. A surprisingly intimate move on his part, but not one that Marinette decides is unwelcome.

"Honestly…I'm kind of afraid to even fall asleep anymore." She admits, feeling just the slightest twinge of shame at the admittance that bad dreams have been keeping her up during the night.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," True to form, Luka picks up on what feelings she hides just barely below the surface, "I wouldn't be sleeping much either, if it were me."

Her grateful smile fades quickly back into a frown as she recalls waking up each night for the past week, trembling, frustrated and confused. The annoyance of wanting to sleep and knowing her brain will undoubtedly torment her if she tries comes back to the forefront of her train of thought. "I-I…I can't go back to sleep if I wake up during the night after one of these nightmares. And I've been dealing with school and the bakery…some real sleep would be _nice_." She's relieved to have spoken about all of this with a trusted friend. At the same time, the bluenette is curious what he thinks of all this. Her random appearance at his home, then her borderline incoherent babbling about scary dreams, deadlines and working.

Luka brings himself back up onto his feet as she watches him for a physical tell that could clue her in on his thoughts. Her deep blue eyes remain trained on his lean form as he takes a deep breath. A second of silence passes between the two young people before he finally turns to look at her once again. Struck by the redness that adorns his ears and the somewhat timid smile playing on his features, the teenager feels her heart rate begin to pick up again. Before she can even contemplate the idea that this may be the first time she's ever seen him look flustered, he kneels down next to her.

"I kinda get what's going on. I can help," He tells her, expression and body language creating a clear illustration of his unease, "If you feel okay with it."

Flustered and unsure what words she wants to use, the young woman simply nods a reply and then is swiftly scooped up into his arms. He carries her up the gangplank and onto the deck of the boat, then eases them both down into a seat near the bow of the vessel. Stunned, Marinette searches out his gaze and when the two lock eyes, she can see another wave of uncertainty wash over him. The muscles in his arms tighten as he pulls them away from her, his posture stiffens and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"I sometimes have dreams like the ones you described. It happened a lot more when I was little though," Marinette wonders what could be going on in his mind as his eyes scan her briefly before he continues. "I could only relax enough to fall asleep if another person was close by, so I thought maybe it would help you if I…" Luka trails off into something of a mumble before going completely silent mid-sentence, almost as if too embarrassed to continue. The young guitarist's genuine desire to show support is heartwarming and calms her. Slowly, she begins to relax just as her friend picks up said guitar and strums the first few chords of a soft and gentle melody. Any lingering tension seems to completely evaporate as the notes fill the quiet spring afternoon.

Backing her body up against his side, she leans against the wall. Within just a few short seconds, the young fashion designer is sinking back into what she swears is the most comfortable resting spot she's ever sat in. Of course, that may just be the exhaustion taking over. Still, it's easy enough to imagine it's really true. Her eyes drift to a close and the only sounds she can hear are those of Luka's guitar and the repetitive lapping of the water against the side of the houseboat.

"If you feel uncomfortable at all, you can leave any time you want." There it is again. The distinct sound of nerves coming through in the tone of his voice. Though he is quite good at maintaining his calm appearance, she has surely noticed the tension he's trying to keep under control.

"I'm not." Breathing already beginning to even out, Marinette knows it won't be long before she drifts off into sleep and it would be dishonest to say she has no reservations about it. When her brain torments her with terrifying images every time she's unconscious, she would be remiss if she didn't resist the onset of sleep. This time, however, she also feels a fundamental change in the atmosphere around her. When the music fades off once more into silence, her brain isn't racing a million miles a minute. The quiet of the afternoon doesn't feel oppressive. She isn't letting every little slip up as Ladybug or every misstep around her peers at school consume her every thought. In fact, they hardly even enter her mind at all. A tired smile creeps over her face as she snuggles back against the boy beside her, growing more grateful for the peace provided by his naturally calming presence. "This is nice. Thanks…" A lengthy yawn puts the thought on hold. "Luka…"

"Any time," She doesn't catch the lilt in his tone, already nearly overtaken by her body's need for rest.

* * *

A breeze picks up and toys with locks of his electric blue hair as Luka strums another few chords of his guitar. As the young woman slumbers, she shifts, causing her head to begin to slide off his shoulder. Falling would mean she wakes up, and he'd rather nothing disturb this peaceful looking nap of hers. Carefully and with just enough time, he gently supports her head and neck and eases her down so she can make herself comfortable in the space beside him. Instead of curling up against the wall, she shuffles forward as if searching out her pillow and finds his lap instead. Biting down on his lip, he can't help but let his eyes linger on the blue-haired young lady who now rests on his thigh. Her ribs rise and fall slowly as she tucks her arms against her chest and stretches out her legs a little in her sleep. A serene smile plays on her lips. Locks of her tied up hair have escaped and now lay across her cheek. He glances back at his guitar, continuing to idly strike the chords as he inwardly appreciates this moment of time he has with her.

Hours? Seconds? He isn't sure about the flow of time anymore. At some point while the sun is getting lower in the sky and the early spring breeze is cooling off, the young woman begins to stir in her resting place on his lap. After a stretch, Marinette reaches up and rubs the sleep from her eyes before glancing around to attain an understanding of her current surroundings. He takes note of the way her body stiffens as she realizes she's laying on someone and sees the color in her cheeks as her eyes rise to meet his. He continues to strike the chords of his instrument, trying not to take it personally as the girl recoils at nearing the speed of light itself. Scrambling into a position on her knees, Marinette falls into her usual habit of incoherent nervous stuttering. He turns, remaining silent while she calms herself down and offers her a smile of reassurance.

"So-Sorry Luka!" Still, Luka says nothing. He knows this is a time where, if he were to say the wrong thing, he could end up making her feel uncomfortable, so he simply shakes his head and waits. Her movements slow to a stop. Luka's smile remains in place as he opens his mouth to speak.

"Did you finally get some good sleep?" Really, it is the only thing that comes to mind. As if it hadn't been embarrassing enough picking her up like a princess and bringing her up on deck for a nap, now that she's woken up, his nerves are nearing completely shot. His calm exterior hides the rapid pace of his heart as he watches her piecing this all together.

"Oh…yeah…I guess I did…" Marinette ponders this for a few seconds longer then pointedly meets his eyes and offers a genuinely grateful smile before concluding her thoughts. "Thanks!"

"Good." This time it is Luka who breaks the eye contact. His voice is steady, his appearance neutral. On the inside, however, he's anything but calm.

The soft music follows up Luka's words as his companion brings herself up onto her feet and smooths out her clothing. It takes a great deal of self control not to stop her when he hears her head in the direction of the gangplank. If she's ready to go, he would be a hypocrite if he were to ask her to stay longer than she is comfortable with. After all, just before her nap he had told her she could leave at any time. Even if it weren't for that, he still feels somewhat guilty over his intimate treatment of her today. Is it really right to be so cozy with her after he had just confessed? Especially given the fact that she still has the kind of feelings she does for someone else. It is dishonest to say he doesn't hope she wants to be with him, but he also doesn't want to come off as if he's manipulating her into making a choice that favors him.

"I should get home," The girl informs him, "I'll see you later."

He chooses to simply nod an acknowledgement.

A moment passes between her words and the quiet footfalls on the old wooden deck that carry her back toward solid ground. Luka continues to hesitate, his mind repeating the same scolding from only a moment ago. ' _She likes someone else,'_ It tells him, _'You need to back off.'_ She's aware of how he feels and has yet to say one word to him about it. She has her reasons for that. He's acutely aware that respecting that boundary is what's best. While he has no problem being by her side when his company is wanted, it's difficult to pin down just how much or how little is appropriate now.

Then again, he did just invite her back to his house to take a nap with him. Could be creepy taken out of context. _'Or maybe even in context,'_ his mind is kind enough to supply this critique as he tries to shake off a wince of regret at his own awkward nature. Though he has been obstinately starting down at his guitar to avoid the embarrassment meeting her eyes will bring, he is unable to resist any longer when she calls out to him. All resolve seems lost as he looks down at the girl on the street, waving a pleasant goodbye and smiling that smile that's consumed many of his thoughts since the music festival. Casting the guitar aside, he jumps up and hurries off after his friend. _'To hell with it.'_

"Hang on," He calls after her, catching up after a minute, "I'll go with you."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he returns her surprised glance with a questioning look of his own. Will she tell him to go back home? He knows her to be the kind of strong-willed girl who will say it when she doesn't like something.

"Are you sure? It's kind of a long walk." These next words are not dismissive ones. Rather, she sounds more like someone worried about burdening him.

"You said yourself you've barely gotten any sleep," He takes a few steps forward, moving out ahead of her and then turning back as if to invite her to follow, "You just woke up and it'll be dark soon. I just want to make sure you get back safely."

"O-okay," Her face looks a bit red as she steps into place beside him, "Thanks again, Luka." Her smile is bashful.

The walk back to the bakery is quiet and peaceful. Very little conversation is kept between the two young people. Luka is lost in his private thoughts and knows it's quite likely that Marinette is so quiet only because she's still tired. For the most part the silence doesn't seem to put a damper on the atmosphere, so he doesn't feel any need to inject commentary into the peace of the evening. When they finally do reach her front door, he pauses for a moment, catching her eyes before she has the chance to walk away. He's normally a fairly mellow guy, but when it comes to her, he just cares so much that the anxiety of doing or saying something inappropriate is hard to quell. His companion, however, doesn't appear troubled in the slightest. She smiles and waits patiently.

"You have my number right?" He has his doubts about asking her this. He wants to try to be her friend and support her if he is able, but he doesn't want to force things too much, either. He can't even begin to know what the right way to approach these feeling is. He's never felt this way about another person before. It's rather difficult to navigate.

"I do." Her soft reply makes it clear she's picked up on his tension and is trying to be sensitive to it.

"If...you have more of those dreams and can't sleep, you can text me any time." The words come out more easily than he expected. He grins at her happily when she appears surprised to hear this news and is surprised himself as Marinette throws her arms around his shoulders, embracing him tightly. He remains still for but a second, stunned, then eagerly returns the affection. Her grip tightens momentarily.

"I've said it a ton already, but I really appreciate everything you did today Luka." She pulls back out of the hug, still smiling.

Waving to him as he turns and takes a few steps down the street, the young woman disappears inside the quiet bakery, quietly shutting the door behind her. Making his way slowly along the empty street, the thought occurs to him that there was something he forgot to say earlier in the day. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he opens the device and scrolls through his contacts until her name appears. He hesitates for only a few seconds as he feels the heat sweep across his face, then types out a quick message, pressing send before he can second guess himself. Another wave of heat washes over his face as he sees the message is delivered and read.

After another several minutes of walking, Luka climbs the gangplank back up onto the deck of the houseboat and heads directly to his cabin. Both elated and somewhat flustered by the events of this afternoon, the teenager flops down onto his bed. Stomach full of butterflies, the young musician releases a long sigh, the sound itself a mixture of a venting of anxiety and an expression of happiness. He settles in for the night, unaware that on the other side of town, Marinette is also sprawled on her bed, experiencing a very similar set of emotions to his own.

* * *

Kicking her feet in excitement and biting down on her lip, she presses the button that lights up her phone's screen and re-reads the message that has put her in this giddy state.

 **(Luka Coffaine 8:47pm: Just to clear it up...**

 **in case you were wondering,**

 **I always think you look perfect.)**

She bites down on her lip as the color fills her face. It's the first time she's been given a compliment like this and she finds herself lost in the high created by his kind words. After considering it for some time since first reading the message, Marinette types out a quick reply. Flopping over onto her back next to her still slumbering kwami, the teenager plugs in her phone and closes her eyes. As had happened earlier this afternoon, the quiet atmosphere of her bedroom doesn't feel oppressive and the only thoughts taking up space in her mind are scenes that played out between her and Luka. Not a single trace of the stress present any other time she's closed her eyes for the last three weeks. Within moments of resting her head on the pillow, she drifts off into the second most peaceful slumber she's had in way too long, dreaming of the gentle sound of a particular guitarist's playing as blue high-lighted hair is caught by the breeze and water laps at the haul of the houseboat.


	8. Iris

**Well...second posting within a month. Even I didn't expect it would happen, but here we are. This came about while listening to the song "Iris", performed by the Goo Goo Dolls. The subject matter in this one centers around the decision not to be a parent and how it can affect one's relationships with their significant others, friends, family and even those who are practically strangers. Please be thoughtful leaving comments. Events in this story are based on real life experiences. I really hope you guys enjoy this story.**

With the latest live performance having just wound down to a close, a young guitarist with striking blue eyes and even more striking blue highlights in his hair is warily packing up his instrument and trying to ignore the excitable chatter amongst his bandmates. It's not that he isn't just as ecstatic as the rest of the band that their most recent song has sprung to number one in local charts, it's just that he doesn't much feel like another night of celebration with everyone else in tow. Honestly, his tight schedule is starting to wear his nerves to the point of breaking. This happens every so often -the crowds and the noise just become too overbearing- and when it does, he knows it's time to take a step back from it all. So, when they've all exited the venue and the others invite him along as predicted, he politely excuses himself, citing being tired and wanting some rest as a reason.

Finally able to break with the rest of the group, the young man breathes a sigh of relief and shoves his hands in his pockets, honestly shocked that such an excuse worked in the first place. Technically, it wasn't _exactly_ a lie. He is tired after all -but not so much on a physical level as a mental one. While they all wait for a taxi, he turns away from the group, making his way down the street toward his apartment as chatty groups of teenagers and couples pass him by. The sound of the car engines and conversations of passersby only serve to further cloud his muddled mind. He knows all he needs is a quiet place to lose himself in his own head space for a bit. Given enough time, he'll be ready for upcoming outings with the others.

For the time being though, they need not know his story about being too tired to go out was mostly a cover for simply needing some alone time. What other means does a natural introvert like himself have to decline to attend social events? Though he's always prided himself on being straight-forward and honest, it might be just a little too honest to say _'You guys are wearing me out, and I'm not up for the same conversations we always have about how your kids are doing, sorry.'_

Who wouldn't take offense to that? Anyone would be likely to get the impression that he hates hearing about their lives and doesn't want to spend any time with them at all. It's only logical to conclude such a statement would make your loved ones angry. He needs space and alone time, but that doesn't mean he hates anyone. Sure, some topics begin to wear thin on his patience after hearing about them enough, but that doesn't mean he hates it or never wants to hear it. No, lest anyone assume otherwise, he adores his sister and his friends. He also enjoys hearing about how their families are, just maybe not at the frequency at which they like to talk about it. And he does like being social, but only up to a certain point. A point he had well surpassed a few weeks ago.

He makes his way down the busy Paris street, pausing with interest when he spies the sign for a pub on the other side of the road. Okay, maybe it won't be the quietest place on earth, but rum and coke sounds like just the thing to help take the edge off this pent-up anxiety and drown out the noise of his crowded world. Taking a quick glance in either direction, he decides he has just enough time in between oncoming cars to get across and makes a break for it.

Hearing the bells above the door as they signal his entrance, he is hit with the noise of the corner jukebox playing classic rock n' roll interlaced with the rowdy conversations of the crowded establishment's patrons. Several groups take up the booth space while the tables are filled with pairs or single people, leaving seating space only at the counter. With one other person sitting by herself near the window side of the counter working on what looks like her second mojito, Luka seats himself at the opposite end, thankful to find space around the only other person here who doesn't appear to want social interaction. He eases his guitar case off his shoulder and tucks it in to the small space in front of his seat, waiting for the bartender to come by and collect his order. to entertain himself in the downtime, he pulls out his phone an opens a gaming app.

"Hey man," Says the voice of a young man approaching him from behind the counter, "What can I get ya?"

"Rum and coke. I like it strong if you can make it that way." Not bothering to look up from his the word scramble game he's begun to play on his phone, Luka's response is bland and disinterested as he prepares to hand over his ID. He doesn't want to come off as rude, but he'd rather not be dragged into a conversation. Not to mention the frustrating fact that he still has to even fish out his ID. Currently twenty-four years old, the young artist is yet astounded by the sheer number of places he goes for a drink that still card him. Glancing up quickly from the phone screen, he studies his refection in the glass case behind the counter holding the numerous bottles of alcohol, idly wondering if he really appears that young.

"No need for this." To his surprise, the bar attendant pushes his ID back in his direction and finally captures Luka's full attention. Looking up at the young man with his red-framed glasses, chocolate brown hair and eyes and familiar mischievous smile, Luka recognizes him for the first time. "Hey man, grats on hitting number one. How ya been, dude?"

"Oh, hey Nino." He recalls meeting Nino, introduced to him as one of Marinette's friends as a teenager. Neither is a name he's heard in quite some time. "Thanks. What are you doing here?" As he makes some idle chit chat to catch up with this old acquaintance, he absently wonders what Marinette has been doing these last few years. He'd been invited to their wedding around a year ago, but aside from being too busy with many personal things at the time to think of attending, he can't really say he wanted to go. Get one thing straight right off the bat, he's never been a big fan of weddings in the first place. Who _actually_ enjoys all that over the top performance art and wasted money for the sake of a single afternoon full of dull conversation with people you'd never spend time with otherwise? On no level does that appeal to him.

To be polite though, he sent back the invitation marked as 'decline to attend.' He knew it would be a stressful enough day for everyone involved without having to worry about the possibility of someone showing up without an RSVP. After all, he may harbor some mild lingering bitterness over the past, but he still wouldn't do anything to cause Marinette undue stress.

"Your rum and coke." Nino slides the glass across the counter and Luka catches it easily, nodding his thanks. Shutting down the app, he slides the cell phone back into the pocket of his ripped black jeans.

"So, how is Marinette?" The inquiry flies out before he can stop it. He almost spits out his drink in surprise at his own remark as Nino shoots him a questioning glance.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Confused, Luka stares at the young man standing in front of him for a long moment before Nino finally tosses his thumb over his shoulder, sighing. Following the direction indicated, Luka's eyes land on the young woman he noticed when he first came in. As his eyes fall upon her, her head turns ever so slightly in his direction, giving him a brief look at her face before she goes back to texting on her phone.

Sure enough, it really is her. Those blue bell eyes are unmistakable. He has never forgotten how pretty he thought she was, but for some reason right now she's almost unrecognizably gorgeous. The dark blue hair he remembers her often tying up in pig tails in their teen years is much longer these days, hanging freely just below her shoulders. Her smile hasn't changed at all and takes him back through time to when that smile was like a melody he had constantly stuck in his head. The spring dress she wears hugs her body in all the right ways. He feels a brief flash of shame for all his bitter thoughts up to this point as butterflies dance in his stomach.

Just like that, any hope of spending the evening alone with his own thoughts and a glass of rum and coke is completely gone. Though he still harbors a slight bitterness in regards to everything transpired in the past, Luka feels those emotions begin to fade as he watches the girl, still punching the screen of her phone with her thumbs. His eyes fall to the glass in his hand. Raising it to his lips, he takes several long swallows, contemplating the concept of walking over there before placing the glass back on the counter. Is it okay after all this time? He hasn't talked to her in years and technically speaking, he did refuse to attend her wedding. It was not really out of malice toward her or Adrien that he didn't go so much as it had to do with his own situation at the time. Still, maybe she will feel hurt that he didn't want to be there for her in one of her supposed happiest moments. Maybe she resents him for it. She had been one of his closest friends at one point, so it wouldn't be totally out of the question. Swallowing nervously, Luka wonders what he's going to say to her after all this time even if he does muster up the nerve to actually walk over and talk to her. So many things can go wrong.

But he decides that that screw it- he's gonna get up and go at least say hello and that's that. If she wants to tell him to leave her be, she will. Snatching his glass from the counter, he takes another long drink before getting to his feet. As he takes a step toward her, Nino speaks up again.

"Hey dude," Luka's head snaps back in the direction of the other young man, who now appears somewhat thoughtful, "Handle with care okay? She's kinda hurting right now."

While he has no clue what Nino could possibly mean, Luka nods in response before heading in Marinette's direction. He pauses beside her for a second, choosing his words.

"Is this seat taken?" Well, that's not exactly what he wanted to lead with, but it'll have to do. Looking up from her phone, those blue orbs fall upon him. He hears the small gasp as she realizes who he is and then just about has the wind knocked from his lungs as she envelops him in a tight hug. It isn't one of the many different responses to his sudden presence he had imagined. It's _far_ better. He'll gladly take it.

"Luka!" She exclaims as she pulls back, her bright smile causing his heart rate to momentarily quicken. "Its _so_ good to see you!"

"It's…good to see you too…" Breathless, he manages a reply after she pulls away from the embrace and sinks into the bar stool beside her.

"Oh, congratulations on your single! I listen to your music all the time." Well aware that her use of the word 'your' is in reference to the entire band, it does not stop the rush of happiness he feels.

"Thanks." In an attempt to stamp down the excitement, he decides to change the subject. "Congratulations to you too, on your marriage I mean. Sorry I couldn't make…" Marinette's reaction stills him, stopping his words even as they leave his lips. His mouth snaps closed. Her overall disposition does a one-eighty when the word 'marriage' comes tumbling out of his mouth and into the space between them. Every ounce of positive energy she had been exuding only seconds before is sapped from the atmosphere as if it never existed. Her smile disappears, replaced by a frown. Her shoulders slump. Her gaze falls away from him, expression downcast.

Well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on here. Obviously, they've had a big fight and she's wrestling with her point of view. All his newly married friends -his sister included- in the band went through a period like that where they were still learning how to be married and in the process, got under each other's skin. He can't even begin to recall the number of times Juleka and Rose would get into such a verbal brawl he thought he'd shortly be breaking up a physical fight or ducking for cover. Not to mention all the times they simply didn't speak at all…for several _days_. And don't even get him started on Maylene and Ivan – there's not enough time in a day to open that can of worms.

While he can't say he wants to know all the details of her spat with Adrien, he does want to support her in this time of need. So, he swallows his pride. After all these years, he can play the 'moral support' role just one more time, can't he? "What happened?"

"I...asked for a divorce." With this, she picks up her mojito and downs the rest all in one go. The background noise of the bar seems to instantly fade to silence, as if all the other patrons suddenly and simultaneously disintegrate. These words seem to suck all the life from the room.

Well damn. Maybe it _does_ take a genius, because never expected those to be the next words out of her mouth. A petty argument? Sure. A typical lover's quarrel? Of course. Her and Adrien completely exiting their marriage altogether? Surely not something he saw coming. Shocked and honestly now uncomfortable as well, Luka lifts his glass to his lips and polishes off the last of his own drink, then quickly turns back toward the counter.

"Can I get another one?" He calls out, waiting to turn back toward Marinette until Nino nods a reply.

"My thoughts exactly." She says, tone resigned, and then calls out for another beverage of her own. He watches her twirling the empty mojito glass in a slow circle in front of her before she pushes it to the side along with the first empty drink.

"Can…I ask what happened?" Her comments and actions leave Luka honestly not sure whether he's curious enough to want a reply or not. As the young woman draws in a deep breath, he takes in her actions and observes carefully.

"Lots of things…" As if too exhausted to continue, Marinette's voice trails off, trembling as though tears are close behind the words. A wave of color washes over her face and she leans her head in her hand, posture indicating shame. At the very least, it's clear she doesn't want to state specifics here "…it was my fault…"

Jaw now fallen somewhat slack, he hesitates for a moment before reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt at comfort. Her lower lip begins to tremble, tugging violently on his heartstrings. Given the current sight in front of him, the guitarist must admit he feels overcome with the compulsion to wrap her in a tight hug and offer his reassurance but quickly decides that that kind of affection will be a bit too much. Too much for him? Too much for her? Too much for them both? Well, the answer to that question remains to be seen.

In place of a hug, he gently rubs her shoulder and keeps his derogatory thoughts about Adrien inside his own mind. Wasn't that guy was supposed to make her happy for the rest of her life? Wasn't he supposed to cherish and love her? It was supposed to be 'in sickness and in health, until death' and all that jargon, right? So then what happened? Luka may have been hurt when she chose Adrien, but, aware he was also a good person who would treat her well, he'd had no right to complain nor to stand in their way. That's why he'd been at least accepting of her decision. If the guy had been a flat-out jerk, he would have happily and _eagerly_ given voice to his objections. But Adrien never struck him as that type. That's partly why it's so difficult to forgive the idea that she's sitting alone in a bar at this hour on the verge of tears, drowning her troubles in alcohol. As if he needed the reminder, he glances over to where the two empty mojito glasses sit on the counter just as Nino sets a new drink down in front of each of them.

"Everything okay over here?" Her friend inquires in a hushed tone, trying to maintain the integrity of the private conversation. Luka looks to Marinette for a reply, his hand falling from her shoulder and quickly finding the glass on the counter for another few sips of the liquid courage he needs more and more by the second. It definitely does not feel like everything is okay. Getting up, paying for the drink and excusing himself is starting to look like a good choice. Turns out, trying to talk with her may have been a bad call after all. Instead of striking up a friendly conversation, all he's managed to do is drag her into a painful dialogue.

But, before he can dwell on it too much, Marinette nods and lifts her head to glance at her friend behind the counter, who returns her small nod with a sympathetic smile. Luka freezes at the sight of tears welling up in her eyes. As he watches the sorrow play within her features, a white-hot rush of anger overtakes him, one which he must quickly snuff out. He dulls the anger with another sip of the stinging drink in his hand.

"Let me know if I can get you anything else." Nino's tone is tender. He lingers for a moment before being called upon by another patron who has just settled into a seat at the other end of the bar.

Now left to themselves again, the pair seem to find words much more difficult to come by. Luka eyes her carefully for a few seconds before lowering his gaze to his cup and taking another slow sip from his glass. Staring down at it, he gradually becomes very aware that he doesn't know what he should do to comfort her. He can't say with confidence that it'll all be alright right now- it's not as though he can predict the future. It also doesn't feel right to bring up his own feelings on the matter, because none of this is about him. Even if he were to call Adrien a total jerk who doesn't deserve her or make some other mean-spirited comment, he's pretty sure he'd just end up making her angry. As he continues to stare at the glass, an idea occurs to him. He offers her the cup, meeting her eyes when the young fashion designer appears baffled.

"It might be a bit bitter for your liking," The guitarist informs the girl who slowly reaches out and takes hold of the offering, "But it seems like the best I have to give right now."

A moment passes where no words are exchanged between the two young people. The background noise from the other patrons and jukebox music fill the pregnant pause. For the first time in too long, a smile stretches over her features before she raises the glass to her lips and takes a long drink. As he suspected, the potency of the beverage makes her cough and wince, but she appears nonetheless grateful for the gift.

"Thanks Luka." Handing the glass back to him, she then continues to nurse her own. Small glass that it is, and with the pace she has been consuming her drinks tonight, it does not take all that long for her to reach the bottom.

He follows suit, quickly polishing off the last little bit left in the bottom of the cup and then sets it along with enough money to cover both of their orders on the counter. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's just the heady rush he's getting from seeing her again but, whatever the case, he is feeling a bit more bold than usual. Sliding down off the bar stool and collecting his guitar case from the ground, the young artist swings it back over his shoulder. Watching over his shoulder, he sees the sadness creep into her expression once more. Turning in her direction again, he holds out his hand, offering his assistance in helping her to get down off her own seat. The way she stares at his hand, bewildered, tells him that some elaboration is in order.

"Let's get out of here," The guitarist begins with an encouraging smile, "We can go for a walk, or I can just walk with you until you get to your house and while we're on our way, you can talk about whatever you want. I'll listen." Marinette's eyes rise from his outstretched arm and come to meet his as another smile begins to form on her lips.

"Okay…sounds good." Though her reply is quiet, she does not sound hesitant at all to follow him. It's a relief to know he wasn't coming on too strong.

Her slender fingers barely graze his palm and he closes his hand around them, squeezing. Pulling the young woman along behind him, he calls over his shoulder for Nino to keep the change. Nino only has enough time to shout back some incomprehensible words before the two are out of earshot in the crowded building.

Leading them out onto the sidewalk in the cool air of the early summer Paris night, he immediately feels it as she shivers in response to the breeze. Upon witnessing her less than subtle trembling, he slides his guitar carefully off his shoulder to the ground and then removes the leather jacket he wears, draping the thick clothing over her shoulders. The awestruck look in her eyes stills him. Suddenly flushed, he runs a hand through his hair. Is this more than he should do?

"You've been through enough lately," He explains, searching for the will to maintain eye contact with her, "You're due a little kindness, don't you think?" It couldn't be any more lame, but still seems to do the trick as she smiles bashfully and slips her arms through the over-sized sleeves, snuggling into the excess of fabric around the collar. This is the point at which he averts his gaze, feeling a bit ashamed that he's more pleased about seeing her enjoying being wrapped up in his clothing than he ought to be.

"So…which way are we going?" The musician asks, changing the subject before he catches himself thinking stupid things again.

"My apartment is this way." She turns in the opposite direction of the way he had them facing and they both begin walking. He sneaks a couple of glances at her out of the corner of his eyes, hoping against hope that she doesn't remain silent for the entirety of their walk to her place.

Marinette doesn't disappoint, seeming almost eager to talk now that they aren't in the pub. "It's only been a few weeks since we finalized all the paperwork. It doesn't seem real." The dejected tone comes creeping back into her voice once more. He watches her expression carefully as she speaks.

"Can I ask…why? You guys seemed…" The way she draws her bottom lip in between her teeth does not go unnoticed. In combination with the crease in her brow from trying to hold back tears, it's a very effective way to make him bite back whatever words he was about to use. "…well, you know…"

"It was me." The young designer states simply, leaving him unsure as to whether it's really okay to pry any further. Does she not want to discuss it? Somehow, he gets the sense that she does and the real reason she hesitates is that she is trying too hard to hold it all together. Or maybe she has something she'd rather not discuss while in pubic. Either way, curiosity is eating at him. Despite his growing interest, instead of pressing her further, he waits until she seems to have calmed down to see if she will continue on her own or not. "In combination with a few other things…I changed my mind about something pretty big after we were married. I don't think I can blame him for changing his mind about me, since it's something we both thought we wanted going in…"

At this point, Marinette pauses, eyeing him carefully. He'd be lying if he doesn't say he feels a bit scrutinized during this long moment where she appears to be searching his expression for something. Returning her lengthy gaze with one of his own, he spies a very distinct kind of hesitation in her tense expression. The way she stares at him is almost as if she's asking his permission to express her next thought. It's difficult to ascertain if the hesitation comes from a place of protecting herself or trying to decide how much to refine her words before she continues. The first makes sense given her situation but the second...it seems somewhat out of character if it is indeed her motivation here. In the time that they spent together all those years ago, he never her knew her to hold back her thoughts when they were important or needed to be heard. Maybe time has changed her. But then again, maybe this is a situation where she simply needs a little bit of a push to get her talking again. She clearly has so much to say. It would be a shame if she quit now.

"You can tell me anything you want, you know. I'll listen." The words are simple and direct, much like the point of the assurance he's trying to offer. _You can trust me with your feelings_. "I'm not going to judge you."

As she opens her mouth to speak, her footfalls slow to a stop against the pavement. Following suit, Luka looks up to see a rather large high-rise towering above them. This must be her apartment building. It was a much shorter walk here than he realized. He doesn't feel ready to abandon this conversation yet, but he also can't bring himself to ask to go inside. Suddenly finding himself with another predicament on his hands, he fidgets anxiously with the strap of his guitar case and watches her, feeling a rush of heat roll up his neck and creep over his ears. As much as he may want to help her or at least hear her out, it would probably just be best to continue this conversation at another time. It's late, they've both had a few drinks now and he doesn't want to put himself into an even more awkward position. Just as Luka is about to excuse himself, Marinette cuts through his thoughts.

"If you want to come up, we can talk for a while." The bashful tone and slight redness on her face are both good indicators that she is thinking about similar things. What's the harm if she's inviting him up for a chat? She looks nervous but not uncomfortable and the soft smile the woman shoots his way lets him knows she's trying to be thoughtful toward him as well. Worries instantly quelled, the musician simply nods and follows her through the front doors, into the lobby and across the room to the elevator doors. The elevator ride to her floor is somewhat awkward, neither of them sure what kind of conversation they should be having right now, if any. At least, Luka knows for sure he has no idea what to say to her as he heads up floor by floor to her apartment with her in the middle of the night. Stealing a glance at her makes him feel all-the-more awkward, as she seems more-or-less unfazed. Marinette quietly reads something on her phone while his gaze shifts to helplessly watch the indicator lights on the wall, following the painfully slow ascent to her floor.

After what feels like an eternity in the elevator followed by the longest walk ever, they stand in front of the door to her apartment. The woman briefly searches for her keys before she lets them both inside the well-kept and trendy one-bedroom apartment and flips on the overhead lights. Making a bee line for the fridge, she takes out a beer and tosses it his way without asking what he'd like first, then chooses an iced tea for herself. Judging from the fact that she tossed him more alcohol, he'd say it's a good wager that he's in for an awful long discussion. Sinking into a chair opposite hers at the kitchen table, Luka watches as she takes a deep breath before speaking and cracks open the drink.

"How do you feel about kids?" Stunned by her seemingly random query, Luka chokes swallowing a mouthful of the beer. Offering him a napkin for his chin, Marinette appears embarrassed under his astounded gaze. "Sorry…bad start…I know. What I mean to say is…I don't want any kids."

"You're right…that _was_ a vast improvement over the first try. Totally clears things up." He teases, only realizing his blunder when her facial features fall into a frown. "Sorry Marinette, I know it's not a good time for sardonic comments. I'll shut up, so go ahead." He can't help but indulge himself in a brief flash of pride when his comment makes her chuckle to herself.

"Adrien and I constantly fought because I really never felt ready to have kids." His eyes widen at these words. This time there's no room for doubt in his mind. It would be near impossible to misread the direction this conversation is headed in. Her eyes flash with a mixture of frustration, anger, sadness and even a little resentment as she slowly sips on her tea.

"At first I thought I just needed time, but I didn't know how to tell him when he seemed so excited about the whole idea...so I kept…trying to stall. Maybe at the time I thought I wanted to just enjoy being married for a while, but he was eager start trying for a baby. He kept looking for reasons and I kept making excuses." His grip on the can in his hand tightens as she tells him her story. Boy, doesn't all this just sound _so_ familiar? As much as he would love to interject with thoughts of his own, Luka remains a silent observer, taking in her thoughts, but offering no feedback. There are _so many_ things he wants to say. So many. Out of respect though, he continues to hold the words in. This is her story and he said he would let her tell it. He takes another long sip of his beer.

"The timing wasn't right - we were both too busy, needed to settle into being married first. It took me several months, but I eventually realized…I just _didn't want to_. No matter how much I used to think about it in theory…In reality...I…didn't want it. I tried to…talk to him. But by that time, he'd already become distant, and was snappy and short with me, so we just ended up getting in more arguments rather than working anything out…that's why…I told him we needed to…end things…" Her voice wavers. He feels his fingertips digging small divots into the aluminum can.

By this point in her little spiel, her breaths and shoulders are shaky, and her eyes are once again filling with tears. "That's why…it's my fault…" If he thought the brief pang of anger he stamped down while they talked in the bar was hard to handle, it pales in comparison to surge of pure rage flooding his senses at present. He's acutely aware he has his own experiences that may be clouding his better judgement, but there's also no denying that, even after all this time, it still _really_ gets under his skin when someone causes her this much distress. Watching her slowly crumbling into a heartbroken and blubbering mess across the table from him in the quiet kitchen, his annoyance and anger bubble over and he just can't hold his tongue any longer.

"That asshole!" The outburst flies forth before he has a chance to review and filter it, his beer can also taking some abuse as he lifts it and then slams it down against the tabletop in his temper tantrum. A big mistake. Marinette's indignant gaze is so sharp that he'd swear he just insulted her, not Adrien. He watches shamefully as her mood only becomes all-the-more dour, her grip on the half-empty plastic tea bottle in her hand tightening until her knuckles are white.

Okay, rewind. Everyone just stay calm. Let's try that again. He clears his throat.

"Sorry. It's not my place to say that." _'Even if I do think it's well deserved.'_ He examines her body language carefully for a few seconds, confident that he can continue only when the anger in her expression begins to fade. The ticking of the wall clock is the only sound cutting the silent tension lingering in the room as he carefully chooses his next set of words. "It irritates me that he would try to pressure you like that. It isn't fair to you that now you're the one who feels guilty over it when _he_ should."

"We both agreed we wanted to be parents," She points out.

"People are complicated and they change. The things we want change too," He takes a sip of the beer mid-rebuttal, "It isn't right for _anyone_ to treat you as if you owe them the rights to your mind or your body just because you're in a relationship."

"But I let him down Luka," She spits out, for some reason sounding annoyed with him now, "Of course I feel guilty. If I had just been honest up front…" The girl before him falls silent as he reaches out and softly places his hand over hers. As their eyes line up, he can tell she's challenging him to refute her. Challenge accepted. There's no reason for him to back down from his position. His gaze is pointed and assured as he speaks.

"Marinette, you didn't do anything wrong. You _didn't do anything wrong._ If you had been honest right away, the outcome wouldn't have been any different," He gently squeezes her fingers, biting his lip when a tear trails down her cheek, "Trust me. This is the kind of thing that makes or breaks a relationship." A brief set of memories flash through his mind, then are quickly overshadowed by the astonishment in her eyes.

"You're talking like you know what it's like." Even her tone of voice is incredulous. Her eyes fall to his hand resting atop hers on the table.

"I might…" He takes a long breath in and releases a heavy sigh, "Have some idea what it's like, yeah."

This time, she surprises the young man by giving his hand a gentle squeeze in return. His eyes snap to meet Marinette's empathetic gaze. As always, she is quick to offer an understanding smile, though she is reaching up to wipe away tears. "I'm sorry Luka."

"It's fine," Feeling a bit overwhelmed by her display of kindness, he draws his hand back and reminds himself that he shouldn't read too much into anything she says or does. _'This isn't about you. Remember that.'_ His internal monologue scolds. Bringing himself up onto his feet, his eyes quickly scan the room for an excuse to put some distance between Marinette and himself. Blue eyes fall to the nearly empty beer can he holds, and he concludes that's as good an excuse as any other. Now somewhat tipsy, Luka carefully makes his way over to the kitchen counter.

Turning back in her direction after quickly rinsing out the aluminum can and placing it upside down in the dish rack, he leans back into the wooden framing of the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. "I want you to know I'm on your side here. Right now, I bet it probably feels like no one else is…even your other friends. Maybe I haven't been the best friend up until now but you can trust me…" Another quick slide show of unpleasant memories plays momentarily in his mind as he finishes his thought, "…when I say that I totally get where you're coming from."

Marinette gives him another incredulous stare before she also abandons her seat at the table to come over and wash out her own empty drink container. Luka observes her expectantly as she leans onto the sink and lets out a lets out a sound caught somewhere in between a growl of frustration and a grunt of indignation.

"When I tried explaining it to Alya, she looked at me like I was insane. Basically said so, too," Marinette rubs circles into her forehead, a sour mixture of bitterness and irritation draping itself over her entire body like a shroud.

How many times is he going to be inundated with unwanted and melancholy memories tonight? Of course, it's only because he sees so much of himself from a year ago reflected in the stories she's sharing tonight. As if he needs the mental aid, his mind tosses out a few brief glimpses of a relationship he thought had been happy. Next up are a few snapshots of the many bitter arguments. The memory of the way people treated him then stings more than anything else even still, coming as it did from people who should have been his friends -his system of support. It's not difficult at all to recall the accusatory language directed at him from acquaintances or the unnecessary and over-the-top levels of concern that had come from his loved ones who it seems, felt it imperative to shower him with it. While he and Marinette each had their own unique circumstances for their breakups, Luka still finds it impossible not to draw his own comparisons.

"Yeah…" Marinette's bitterness seems to be catching. He manages to hold her gaze for a second, enough time to get the distinct impression that her thoughts are again very likely similar in nature to his own. "People can be...a little less than understanding about it." Well, that's putting it mildly.

"Mom and dad just looked worried and then complained about grandchildren, I got a lecture from Chloe about never finding someone that good again and even people I barely remember from school feel the need to comment, too," None of this surprises him in the least and he nods along with her words, quietly absorbing the venting of her frustrations. Her eyes fall upon him once more in the midst of her rambling, a look of realization crossing her features. "Your reaction is probably the only positive one I've gotten."

"That sounds familiar." Thinking back on the scornful reactions of his friends, how he wishes he had some version of himself available to talk to back when he was depressed and blaming himself for his bitter split from his ex-girlfriend. He can't even begin to say how helpful it would have been to have just one person who understood his feelings and tried to encourage him to be himself, even if his idea of happiness didn't quite match up with what everyone else expected it should have been. Not to mention how much more mentally and emotionally beneficial it would have been to have even on person come to his defense. As much as he loves his band mates, even they were borderline unhelpful -though less out of any unjustified anger toward him and more out of a lack of understanding- when it felt that his entire world had been turned inside out. Even to this day, they lack a general understanding of his thoughts, opinions and reasoning surrounding this matter.

A brief wave of self-satisfaction sweeps through him and he revels in the possibility that now he's able to be that kind of support for someone else. Tossing a grin her way, the young musician shifts his position against the counter in an effort to relieve the irritated area of his back it had been digging in to.

"How did you deal with all this?" She wonders, her pretty blue bell eyes downcast and her expression sullen. She laces her fingers together as she leans over the sink, one foot twisting back and forth into the tile below her flats.

"It kinda sounds like a cliche, but one day at a time, I guess." A _total_ cliche, yet still the only prediction he can make for her. Looking back, immediately following the break-up, the musician really doesn't remember what it was that gave him the motivation to keep going every day. Perhaps he had simply placed his mind into autopilot. After some time had passed, he found a small local community in an online search of people who had experienced similar things and held very similar views to his own. That little group of people became the system of support, the means by which he could vent his pent-up frustrations and eventually, some of the best friends he's had. Would something like that help her? If he were to offer the group as a resource, it wouldn't be the worst coping mechanism for her to turn to.

Slowly, the two find themselves sinking down into sitting positions on the floor to get more comfortable. Next to him, she has her head resting atop her knees, her arms wrapped around her shins.

"Can I…ask what exactly happened with you?" The inquiry seems to startle them both.

Still, this question _has_ been inevitable since he first approached her in the bar and they ventured into this crazy discussion. Even now he's hesitant to revisit this series of unpleasant events. He'd be remiss if he didn't acknowledge how much of it he'd rather forget entirely. With most any other person, he'd already be looking for a way out of answering. Not with Marinette though. The bluenette woman isn't the only person on earth capable of understanding his position and hearing him out, but she also won't offer petty judgments or ridicule. He feels a certain excitement knowing he can share his experiences and get feedback that isn't unwanted pity or unjustified anger. Sucking in a long, deep breath, Luka runs a hand through his hair and lets it all go again before collecting his thoughts to piece together this story.

"I started dating someone around a year and a half ago. I made sure they knew where I stood on this up front. Everything seemed like it was going great. I thought we were happy…" He trails off, wincing involuntarily at the memory of his less than admirable behavior when she'd first begun pressing the issue of kids. "She never planned on sticking to the 'no kids' agreement we'd made. She said so herself during a fight, but she meant it. When she started to try and convince me why we _should_ have children, it just started fights." Despite the topic at hand, the musician can't hold back the smile that creeps across his face as he feels his companion reach out and begin to comfortingly rub his shoulder. Stealing a quick glance at her expression, he finds those deep blue eyes alight with a strange mixture of intrigue and grief. Practically hanging on his every word. The urge to reach up and place his hand over hers, intertwining their fingers is nearly irresistible. The refrain he must exercise in this moment is a conscious and concerted effort. "After a few months and several huge fights, I found out she was cheating…" The memory itself isn't what triggers his sudden silence. That credit goes entirely to a pair of slender arms now encircling his chest. Her head rests gently against his shoulder as she speaks.

"I'm so sorry, Luka." The young woman soothes, empathy in her tone where pity would be if she were anyone else. One of her soft hands is now rubbing the same comforting circles against his collarbone. He swallows harshly, attempting to focus on anything other than the warmth of her body pressed against his side or the gentle ministrations of her fingers as she looks up at him with those piercing eyes from beneath her silky, dark hair.

"Yeah, well," ' _Come on man, pull yourself together. You're not a kid anymore.'_ He scolds himself as he shifts his line of sight and stares down at his knees, trying to get his brain to refocus on the topic at hand. "It gets better…when I called out her on it, she told me she was pregnant. After that, she packed up and left."

Adorably, her nose scrunches up in disgust. A grin tugs up on the corner of his lip as he watches her display of obvious disdain. After a moment though, the disgusted look fades, transforming itself into an expression of realization, then one of curiosity.

"When I said how people acted when I told them why Adrien and I divorced, you made it seem like people treated you that way, too. Why would anyone think you're in the wrong here?" A fair question. That part of the whole mess hasn't been discussed yet.

"After she moved out, she started telling people that I gave her an ultimatum -forced her to choose between me and kids- and that when she wanted kids, I…became abusive. At least, that's what I heard from people who talked to her." It's not as if he didn't have his moments of anger in the midst of their numerous arguments. By his own admission, he was not always being gentlemanly and polite during those times. Who would be when saying things mostly born of frustration and anger? To actually harm someone over a difference of opinion though -such a thought had never once occurred to him. Unfortunately, though, that wasn't what several people believed at the time.

' _What if Marinette believes that story of hers too?'_ His brain taunts. Glancing down at the woman cautiously, he wonders if admitting to people spreading such rumors about him is really a good call. It would be easy for anyone to doubt someone's character after hearing that other people were making such serious allegations.

True to form though, Marinette does not shy away. Embrace tightening around his chest, she shifts closer and leans against him more heavily as the cupboard creaks under the added pressure behind them. "That asshole. That's such _obvious_ _bullshit_ ," The bitter words, uncharacteristic as they are coming from this particular girl, are funny enough on their own. Add in the call back to the point in their conversation at the table when he had his little fit of frustration and both young people end up chuckling in amusement. A brief flash of genuine enjoyment shines in her eyes as she smiles up at him. "Sorry for glaring at you earlier. I get why you reacted that way."

"I don't say harsh things without a good reason," He informs her quietly, maintaining the eye contact as he breaks into a playful grin, "Besides, the asshole totally deserved it."

"Luka!" The mocking tone and playful nudge in the side tell him this time her scolding is not to be taken seriously. A huff of amusement passes over his lips as she pulls back out of the embrace, her expression still full of interest. "So…what even is your opinion about kids?"

"Hmmm," After briefly glancing away to feign a moment of consideration he turns to her once more with an utterly diabolical grin on his face, "Babies pair great with white wine, but I prefer toddlers with red."

"Oh my god, Luka! No!" She snorts, giving him another playful shove as she tries and fails to resist a fit of giggles at his remarks. Seeing the genuinely happy smile and hearing her _laugh_ so heartily for the first time this night makes his scolding for the dark humor all-the-more worth it. "You're terrible!"

"I prefer the term 'naughty' actually," As it would with a fan in the street, that natural playful flirtation passes over his lips with a small wink. It only takes a moment after seeing the stunned look on the designer's face to realize what the comment he just made means. What could have possibly possessed him that he thought flirting would be a good idea? Ears burning, he lowers his gaze to his lap. "S-sorry…I didn't mean anything by that…I…uhh…" Clearing his throat awkwardly as she squirms in her place next to him, he works up the nerve to continue. "To answer your question, I don't want to be a parent."

"Thanks for coming over and talking tonight." The tone of her voice indicates a closing of the previous discussion. It now sounds like she's working up to the point where she's going to dismiss him for the night. "I'm sorry you had to sit and listen to all my whining."

"You weren't whining. You needed to know someone was on your side…" Still anxious after that unintentional flirt, he clarifies his point of view while raking his fingers through his hair "…and I would have wanted someone to be that for me when I needed help. Besides, I just hate seeing you sad." He can't bring himself to see what kind of look his companion sports.

A few moments pass before he finally gathers the courage he needs to chance a peek in Marinette's direction. Fully expecting to find an uncomfortable look on her face, the expression he sees instead stops his breath, a feeling somewhat akin to a sudden burst of flames shooting through his core. Frozen in place, the young musician studies his friend carefully, unable to determine how serious she is. The intention he thinks he can recognize in her current body language…does she really mean it? More than that though, it is really okay with her?

He swallows as she shifts toward him, heart thudding in his chest. A tingle runs down along his spine as he takes in the heated, curious and somewhat apprehensive look playing in her features. A slow creeping warmth moves up the back of his neck when she bites down on her lip and eyes him with an intoxicating look of guarded interest. In those pools of deep blue lingers a single question that even he isn't sure he knows the answer to. Slowly, she continues to shift toward him, eyes ablaze with the same curious blend of intrigue and uncertainty. There, sitting on the kitchen floor of her apartment, the stillness of the late hour making it feel as if they are the only two people in the entire world, he can finally admit to himself something he has been denying inside his mind all night. Despite everything, all the time, all the distance, all the hard feelings of the past, he still...loves her.

Lost in the rush of feel-good chemicals released inside his brain, he finds his earlier convictions slowly melting away like a late winter snowfall. His body seems to move under a willpower disconnected entirely from what his brain dictates he should be doing. His hand stretches toward her, the tiny tremble in his fingertips revealing the ongoing presence of overactive nerves. His index finger brushes against her lower jaw before his fingers work their way over her cheek and into the sleek hair tucked behind her ear. Foreheads resting against one another, the two exchange a pair of intensely heated glances. His heart still thrumming against his rib cage, he pulls his lower lip in between his teeth. Is this _really_ okay? Is it okay to forgive himself a little for still being so helplessly in love with her? Is it okay to give in to his desire for her if she also wants this? Just as her hand begins to trail down the back of his neck and Luka releases his hold on his lower lip to allow his upper lip to gently brush against hers, the sense he seemed to abandon completely seconds prior returns to him.

What in the world has gotten into him? This is _absolutely_ not okay. He squeezes his eyes shut, partly out of the regret he already feels from the moment he's about to give up but mostly from the deep-seeded disappointment he feels in himself. Wincing at his own lack of self-control, he releases a heavy sigh just before backing away. In so doing, Luka takes immediate notice of the wounded look on her face and the worry now clouding her eyes. Knowing that some part of her genuinely desires to kiss him -even to the point that she is hurt by his refusal to do so- makes it infinitely more difficult to exercise this pesky thing called self-discipline.

"I'm sorry Marinette…I can't…" Watching the disappointment take over her expression and body language is the second most frustrating part of all of this. If her thought process here is that she's offended him or that he doesn't want this, she's sorely mistaken. It's actually quite the contrary. He'd love nothing more than to draw her near and kiss her until they're both completely senseless. But to do so barely a month after she had been through a bad break up and signed divorce papers? To take advantage of her emotional vulnerability? No. He will not be the rebound guy, nor will he manipulate her. As much as he has always wanted her, he will not settle for being a cheap one-night stand. "I shouldn't."

"You're right…" It comes out in a sullen sigh a moment later. "I shouldn't have…"

At the same time, two voices fill the silence of the room with their innermost thoughts.

"I've never stopped loving you."

"It feels like I'm doing something wrong."

Equally stunned, two pairs of blue eyes line up. The ticking of the wall clock seems louder than ever before in the silence that follows. Why does hearing those words cut so deeply? He is understanding of the fact that she still loves Adrien. He always has been. He also knows the woman before him to be one of integrity and moral character, someone who would never willingly or intentionally do anything to harm another -much less someone she holds dear. Even though she is not doing anything wrong, it makes sense that she would think of her ex-husband first. You don't need to be a rocket scientist to know she still must harbor emotional loyalty to the person she didn't want to lose. Yet, still, it stings to hear it said so plainly.

"I know." The words are not said out of any anger toward the woman, but they do come out practically steeped in the emotion. Glancing up at the wall clock, he sees the hands indicating that it's around one thirty in the morning. In more ways than one, it's time to leave. "I should go."

Not wasting a single second, he scrambles up onto his feet and in a few quick strides is at the front door, guitar case slung over his shoulder. Collecting his jacket from the coat rack to the left of the door, he turns the locking mechanism before placing his hand on the handle. The equally quick footfalls behind him give him pause just as he's about to open the door. Sighing, the artist turns back to look at his designer friend.

Her blue eyes are clouded with hurt and are beginning to brim with tears once more. Yet another sight since their meeting earlier tonight that tugs fiercely on his heartstrings. What's worse is that this time, he has no one to be angry with other than himself. Unable to open his mouth to say anything under this distressed gaze of hers, he remains quiet as the young woman bites back her sadness and prepares to speak.

"You don't have to go," Voice breaking, she does her best to get through her own swelling emotions, "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. I'm so _very_ sorry. It was me...you…didn't do…anything…wrong…" Despite her best efforts, the tears still come, rolling down her cheeks as she wipes them away in her frustration at not being able to keep it all together. "I'm so sorry...I don't want you to leave because…I feel like you'll never…come back…" When she says 'come back' he is aware it means she thinks he'll deliberately avoid her from this point forward. Lowering her head, she continues to wipe the tears away, trying desperately not to allow herself to sob in his presence.

He'd love to be able to say he already learned his lesson in setting and keeping boundaries after almost kissing her just moments ago. He'd love to, but he can't. Forget petty bragging rights in regards to self-restraint. When the woman you love is in tears before you and trying to accredit all the blame to herself in a moment of weakness you took part in, you don't stand idly by and do nothing. Sucking air through his teeth, Luka reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder before pulling her into a kind of half-embrace, her body lightly pressed against his side. He needs to comfort her, but too much contact might just break him again. He feels her go still with the contact, a small gasp escaping her lips. Slowly, his arm snakes around her shoulders.

After only a second, Luka pushes her back before she has a chance to respond to the hug. Her incredulous blue eyes stare up at him, searching for answers.

"I do have to go," The mortified look on her face is all the more motivation he needs to elaborate. "Look, maybe I haven't been around much in the last several years, but I won't just desert you if that's what you're thinking," Her eyes widen as he speaks, "I just…" _'Want more than one kiss...or one night,'_ Momentarily averting his eyes, he bites his lip and tries to gather together better words than those "Want you to have time to put your life back together." If what he saw in her eyes moments ago is real and meant to last, then he wants to give it time to grow naturally. Jumping the gun and going straight to something physical won't help matters. It could even jeopardize any chance he has of a future potential romantic relationship with her. He for one is not willing to gamble something that means that much to him on a single moment of weakness. However desirable that moment may be.

Reaching into his pocket quickly, he pulls out a pen. He grins when she gives him a quizzical look before asking for her hand. Slowly, she holds it out and he scribbles his number onto her skin.

Drawing her hand back, she stares at the freshly scribed numbers for a second before meeting his gaze again.

"Like I said, I'll stay in touch," Luka begins with a wink, placing his hand on the doorknob, "Call me or text…whenever. I won't always be able to get back to you right away, but I'll always answer." Her startled blue eyes blink once or twice before a small smile begins to appear on her face.

"I'll…talk to you later then." A set of words caught somewhere between a statement and a question come out in a quiet mumble. Redness spreads across her cheeks.

A gentle smile takes over his own features as Luka watches the girl gaze bashfully toward the ground. "Yeah," He tells her, pulling open the door and stepping into the hallway, "Later, Marinette."

* * *

The next few weeks of his life pass rather uneventfully. His travel schedule with the rest of the group is keeping him very busy. All the same scenes and conversations as always. The same kinds of rabid fans sometimes taking their enjoyment of the group's music too far. Since that chance encounter in the pub though, there has been one welcome change in his routine. When the day's work is done and he turns in or takes a break, his phone will be indicating the messages he is always anticipating. Luka will always love what he does, but as crowded and loud as events are, his mind is muddled with the residual static noise of the venues when it's all over. Exchanging a set of messages with Marinette each day really seems to clear all of that agitation away. It also doesn't hurt that the two of them recently learned they have a very important viewpoint in common -that is the one revolving around their mutual desire to not have any children. It is a driving force in quite a few of their conversations.

Her early messages are full of questions. She's only experiencing these situations for the first time. He puts her in touch with the same group of people who had been his support in his time of need, happy when she seems to find comfort in going and visiting with them at meetups.

It's not until around a month and a half later, as he leaves a concert hall with the rest of his group, Luka feels the phone vibrating in his back pocket. Intending to ignore the device initially, his full attention is only drawn back to it by the repetitive vibrations that indicate a call. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he pulls the device from his back pocket, suddenly remembering that the group's manager was supposed to be getting in touch today to finalize some pending appearance details. Ready to get the conversation over with, he swipes to answer the call without even looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" His voice echoes through the receiver. A nearly deafening silence follows until the caller on the other end finally speaks.

"L-Luka!" Stutters a feminine voice that makes his eyes widen in surprise.

Pulling the phone away from his ear and staring at the digital display, it clearly shows the name of the caller is Marinette. A rush of giddy child-like excitement washes over him as the same butterflies he'd felt in his stomach that night several weeks ago come back with a vengeance. He supposes he did say she could call whenever, but he didn't honestly expect her to do it. In truth, he'd been pleasantly surprised enough by her exchanging regular messages with him. After that meeting in the bar and the subsequent events, he honestly wasn't sure how she'd feel about conversing.

Still a little thrown off by the call, he waves the rest of the group off and leans on the wall of the building, a small grin tugging up on the corner of his lip.

"This is a surprise," He states, tone only half-teasing.

"Y-you said I could!" She blurts out, the same nervous stutter he remembers from all those years ago creeping back in.

"I did." The same grin continues to pull upward at the corner of his mouth as he replies to her. "So…is there a reason you called?" _'You know, aside from just wanting to hear my voice.'_ He swallows the flirty phrase before it can reach his lips. That's not a mistake he's willing to make twice, though the temptation is powerful.

"W-well…I-I didn't think you'd answer…" This shaky admission surprises him. It basically means she thought she'd just be leaving a message and likely wasn't intending on talking to him. At any rate, his ego is just ever so slightly bruised hearing her intention was not to speak with him. A little teasing in retribution is fair, right?

"I should let you go since you didn't want to talk anyway…later…" Before all the words are even out, the young woman's voice cuts him off through the receiver.

"Wait!" Voice breaking mid-way, her plea brings another playful grin to his features. "D-don't go…I…I uh…"

"I was kidding. I'm not hanging up," The young man explains, running a hand through his hair, "I…want to talk to you." Hearing the small gasp of surprise through the line, he switches the subject. "You still didn't answer my question."

"We-well…I wanted to say I was happy to get to see you again," Her timid explanation comes slowly, "I know it wasn't a great time since we mostly only talked about depressing things…but I…well, anyway, thank you. You really helped."

It's almost as if he's been unable to stop smiling since he picked up the phone. Warmed by the thought that he had been able to offer support even in spite of his own baggage and emotional turbulence, he offers a gentle reply.

"I'm glad," He gets the impression that reiterating her sentiments from the other night might not be the only reason for this phone call, "I was happy to."

"And…" Her voice trails off into silence on the other end of the line.

"And?" The gentle encouragement takes the form of a question.

"And I was wondering if…you can totally say no if you're not okay with it, obviously…" Marinette hesitates again, falling silent once more. For a second time this afternoon, Luka finds himself trying and failing to reign in his excitement. Heat rushes along the back of his neck and ears, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. No longer in strong control of his feelings, a single query comes tumbling out of his mouth of it's own accord.

"Is this…you asking me out?" The question prompts a short silence in which he can hear her fidgeting nervously in the background of the call.

"It's probably weird and you sort of already said no the other night…"

"What?" Cutting her off suddenly, he stares at the traffic-laden street as if someone out there had just made the ridiculous comment. Sure, he had backed out of that kiss out of respect to her recently dissolved marriage but…his eyes widen as realization hits him. _'Oh crap,'_ Had he somehow given her the impression that he's not interested? Even after admitting to his feelings and nearly kissing her? How? "Hang on a sec…I think maybe you misunder…"

"Still, do you want to see a movie or go get dinner sometime?" The girl manages to squeak out this question, stunning him to silence as if he hadn't been expecting it to be asked in the first place. His heart is not gentle as it thuds against his rib cage. The heat spread over his nose and cheeks is searing. He finds himself speechless, caught in between excitement at her question and embarrassment at his childish response to it. "I kinda wanted to catch up a little more. Ah but…only if you have time. I know you guys are busy right now. Oh, and only if you actually wanted to…"

"I'll go." Cutting abruptly through her anxious rambling, it would seem he's gotten over his momentary system shutdown. He hears her breath catch on the other end of the line. His eyes drift to a close as a content smile takes over his features. "Let me know where and when and I'll be there."

The call ends after a quick exchange regarding the location and she leaves him to check his schedule for any free time he has upcoming. Sliding the phone into his back pocket, he turns to catch up to the rest of the group, now waiting patiently gathered around their driver's car. Though he must endure teasing from his comrades, he can't do a thing about the pure joy he's currently feeling nor the dream-like state it's put him in. After all this time, maybe something real could be blossoming between Marinette and himself. No one can know what the future holds, but this is certainly the most hopeful he's felt about it. For now, that's all he needs.


	9. Bad Day

**It has been a while since I last updated, so I'm sorry for the long wait -to anyone who is still following. The past year was eventful and not all of it was great, but I didn't disappear for good. I'm back with more sweet Luka and Marinette goodness for those of us who continue to be fans of this ship to enjoy and I will try my best with my work schedule to keep on writing in my spare time so uploads might hopefully occur more often. That said, this is basically a sweet piece of fluff written for anyone who has ever had a terrible job -the sort of job that makes you die a little inside by the end of each day- and struggled to reach out for the comfort you desperately wanted. In keeping with the song theme, it is set to "Bad Day" by Daniel Powter. I hope this chapter finds you all well. As usual, please enjoy if it is your thing and enjoy something else instead if it isn't. Thanks for following!**

We all have moments in life that bring us to question every choice we've ever made leading up to the situation we find ourselves in. For a certain blue-haired aspiring fashion designer, that moment had been at about 11:30 this morning. To have extra cash on hand while in university, she had taken a part-time job at an animal shelter. From day one, it was obvious this would not be the cuddling-animals-all-day type of work most people think of it as. Straight out of the gate, the grueling physical work, emotional burn out and long hours made that fact perfectly clear.

Days are long and work weeks are even longer. You start your day with a rigorous cleaning routine- meticulously scrubbing, rinsing and sanitizing the walls, floors and bars of each enclosure- after feeding all the animals. Dishes and laundry follow soon thereafter. Soon, the time arrives when the shelter opens to the public for the day and all of the meet and greets with families begin. Few people thank you for anything and the vast majority treat you as if you are the enemy. It wouldn't be unusual to hear a question like "how many animals did you kill today?" during a meet and greet with a potential adoptive family. It's even more common to get told what a bad person you are for even considering working in a place where such a thing happens.

It certainly doesn't help matters that there are favorite employees, beyond retribution and ridicule -who never have to answer for their laziness and apathy. It seems these people spend all day goofing off in some part of the shelter, contributing nothing to the organization while somehow still garnering the approval of the managers and team leads. Almost a separate issue entirely, the enablers of these slackers, the bosses who let this behavior slide for one reason or another- well, they desperately need addressing as well. While they use their authority to protect the non-contributors, they treat anyone who reports poor work ethic and lack of contribution as if they are crazy for even doing so.

On the subject of fellow employees, don't even bring up the fact that there are those in the highest positions of authority within the organization who care nothing for the animals they are supposed to protect. They treat the people below them as nothing but dirt beneath their feet and the animals they are supposed to care for as merchandise to be moved like stock on the shelves of grocery stores. Numbers in a great game of sums and losses for the company. A sickening thought, even for someone only a part of it all on a temporary basis. One could say that in it's own way, every day contains a uniquely shitty property. There is something to dislike about this place for every single day of the year and beyond. But it truly is days like today that make her remember why the viral videos of people rage quitting their jobs were so popular.

* * *

With all of this in mind, a dreary Friday morning began. Well, 'Friday' in the sense that her work week would be over and tomorrow is the first day of her 'weekend.' Because this is the type of job in which actual weekends really are meaningless. A part-time work week is any three days strung together in a row during the seven day week.

After clocking in, the very first thing that she had the pleasure of dealing with was being called to her manager's office. What awaited her? Why, a reprimand from her boss for not being able to finish all the dirty dishes from the day before. Though she tried to explain that no one else had helped her and that there had been many meet and greets and dog meets the previous afternoon, she was dismissed as lazy and told that if she didn't step it up, she'd be facing a more formal type of discipline.

Feeling somewhat discouraged, she left the meeting with the manager. It hurt to be told this when she put in her best effort every day, but determined still to prove she was worthy, she refused to resign herself to criticism. After she shook off the disappointment and anger, the young woman began her work for the day -taking care of the dogs and cleaning the areas where they were housed.

Before she could even think about starting her area, one of her coworkers approached her, telling her that they were needed to help elsewhere and would not be able to feed their assigned area. This person was notorious for saying they had something to do but would pick up their slack later and then never returning to finish their work. That much she knew. But she also knew that if she said anything, it would fall of deaf ears, or worse, land her in more trouble. This was, after all, one of the favorites. And, she had to face the facts, there was just no doing anything about the behavior of a favorite employee, no matter how bad. It had been going on for enough months that she knew better. So, she would grin and bear it. Even as frustrating as it was to be forced into doing someone else's share of the work on a nearly routine basis.

After finishing the feeding in her own area, she headed to the coworker's designated area and set about making sure each dog got fed the diet to the specifications of the clinical staff, who took care of the animal's medical needs. Indulging herself for a second or two, she paused to visit with a young shepherd mix awaiting her behavioral evaluation, and, with the task completed, promptly returned to her assigned area. Though set back about 20 minutes, the determined young woman knew she could still make it work if she hurried.

After moving each dog to the back of it's run and closing them off, the dismantling of each kennel -including removal of bedding and bowls- then began. With the bucket of soiled bedding wheeled to the laundry room, the supplies needed readying. The canister of soap which attached to the end of the hose already awaited her at the end of the long row of enclosures. With everything finally in place, she made her way over to the soap, only to meet resistance from the equipment in the form of the hose kinking. This was an annoyance that occurred in such frequency, the poor girl could no longer discern if she was angry or not. Giving the heavy rubber material a shake to undo the obstacle seemed like the fastest resolution. She knew a mistake had been made when the rough substance swiftly made contact with the side of her face. With the sharp clapping sound it made, it would be hard not to believe there would later be a bruise forming in the accosted area.

About 15 minutes later, while rinsing the kennels on the opposite row, the young woman slipped on the wet floor and careened forward and toward the ground, losing her grip on and dropping the hose, which then landed on the trigger. Because why in the hell not. Her knees connected harshly with the rough ground, both of them now skinned and likely also bruised. A blast of icy water startled her for but a moment before the only thought her brain could supply was _'of course this would happen.'_ Really, why would it not have landed in the perfect position and with just enough force to continuously assault her with a torrent of ice-cold water? Clambering around on the wet floor for a way to make the unwanted shower cease, she silently rued the day she ever decided to buy a pair of so-called non-slip shoes at the local retail chain store.

After finally finishing up in her area and putting away all the cleaning supplies, she was delighted to look at her watch and find she had enough time left to go and work though some dishes and laundry. Stepping into the prep area, she set about working her way through the giant stack of dishes -a significant sum remaining from the day before when there had been no time and no help to get through them. While in the middle of this, the same employee from earlier popped their head in to tell her once again that they are needed to help in another department. Of course, it would logically follow that they have not yet finished cleaning their area and would need her to 'help' them until they got back from this other pressing task they must attend to. How very convenient for them to always be required to help else ware when the hardest work of the day was in full swing.

All the more frustrated with the extra work being piled on and aware that this might earn her another time management lecture, she made her way back to the same area she had fed for this person earlier. _'Not quite finished my ass,'_ The young blue-haired woman thought bitterly to herself, _'more like barely even started.'_ A surge of white-hot anger rushed through her as she looked around to see that all this coworker had managed to do is move a few of the dogs out of the dirty kennels. None of the soiled bedding or bowls had been removed, none of the waste picked up, none of the supplies readied to begin the cleaning process. Honestly, she had no idea why she was even angry anymore. This was basically this coworker's M.O. at this point. The exhausting progression of beginning her day, getting pulled away to feed and clean another area on top of hers and then being chewed out by the boss was almost to be expected. When was the last time this lazy jerk completed all of their tasks without excuses being made? When was the last day she wasn't reprimanded for being not good enough at doing both her job and a fellow employee's?

After taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she busied herself with the cleaning, knowing that it wouldn't get done if she didn't do it and that inevitably it would somehow still be her fault if incomplete. Something about not be a team player, wouldn't it be? While she finished up her last row, who should happen to walk by the area she'd taken up responsibility for but the same boss who had given her an earful earlier that morning. Witnessing the accusatory expression flood the older woman's face lit a fire of rage that coursed through every muscle, bone and fiber of her being. More that just a little miffed, the woman shoved the door open, then stalked toward her as she rinsed out a kennel.

"How can you still be cleaning? There's a _huge_ pile of dirty dishes still in your area from yesterday! The laundry is piling up too! Why haven't you started on any of that work yet?" The woman demanded, not even giving Marinette a chance to open her mouth and explain before then launching into the fully-expected lecture about time management. When the bluenette finally managed to get a word of self-defense in edge-wise, she was quickly cut off and told to meet the manager in her office again when the cleaning was completed.

After another lengthy discussion, where she finally got the chance to explain her position only because her manager's boss was also present, she went to lunch, already emotionally checked out for the day. And so there she was at 11:30, sitting alone in the break room, examining every life choice she'd made, trying to determine where exactly it all went wrong. Appetite all but gone, the aspiring fashion designer slumped down in her chair in the lunch room, shuffling the leftover pasta from last night around on her plate with little interest. Following the lunch she barely ate, the rest of the day was hardly any easier. The afternoon was a bland mixture of dishes, laundry, meet and greets full of frustrating questions and dog meets where people with dogs clearly couldn't understand their own animal's body language. Naturally, her co worker was nowhere to be found the majority of this time either.

* * *

Climbing wearily into the driver's seat of her car was the only respite to be found within her day. In the silence of her small sedan on the twenty minute drive home her feelings seem to wage war on one another. Giving in and feeling sad is what this bully of a person wants. She'd be playing into their hand if she allows herself to break down. However, with no real way out other than to quit and no help coming from the people who could stop all this in an instant if they possessed one ounce of empathy, it's hard to continue stamping down the overwhelming grief she is experiencing any longer.

With these thoughts and the details of her day swirling in her mind like a kaleidoscope, she pulls the car into her space in her parking garage, exhausted, filthy and feeling thoroughly bested. In a temporary lapse of judgement, one hand stretches down toward her knee and fingernails dig into the rough scrape. Wincing at the flash of pain that comes with her small blunder, she yanks hand away and shoves it into her pocket. Heaving a sigh, she presses the button on the wall and waits impatiently for the elevator to reach the below-ground parking garage. Her soiled blue scrubs are still wet and clinging uncomfortably to her body from being stuck in a dog meet outside in the pouring rain at the end of the night. Her tied back hair drips water down the back of her neck. Her skinned knees sting and itch as the elevator doors slide open and she steps inside.

After what feels like a thousand eternities, she finally stands before her front door, never happier to see a plank of polished cedar in all her days. Pulling out her smartphone and opening the app, the latch clicks open and she steps inside. Wearily she stands in the foyer for a moment, still trying her very best to put the details of the day in a little box in her mind to come back to later. A futile exercise that only leads to more intense feelings of irritation. Angrily, she kicks her shoes off, sending each sopping sneaker flying into the wall and falling into the plastic tray she would usually have just set them in. A little catharsis through venting your pent up frustration never hurt anyone, right?

A small meow sounds from the area near her feet and she looks down to see Tikki, her Snowshoe mix sitting on the other side of the baby gate. Her loud purr reverberates through the hallway as the small creature stretches and bunts against the plastic division. No longer able to stop a small grin from disrupting her unpleasant memories of the day, she begins removing her scrubs, depositing the soiled articles into the hamper she'd placed in the hallway this morning.

Hoisting the laundry basket up over the baby gate, she allows herself passage to the rest of the hallway leading to her living room with her cat hot on her heels. Carrying the hamper to her laundry room and starting a load with the contents of the heavy container, she hears her phone ping to indicate a message and absently walks back, leaning down over the gate and snatching the bag from the floor. Another long cry of protest at not yet having received a meal echoes down the hallway. Ignoring the small animal for but a moment, she taps the button to view her screen and is delighted to find a notification from the one person who might be able to -if only momentarily- completely obliterate her dour mood. A weak smile ghosts over her features for a moment before she remembers she is in desperate need of a shower and some wound-dressing.

Gingerly trekking down the hall to her bathroom, the battered girl searches through the cabinets in her bathroom. Finding her treasure near the back of the second drawer, she retrieves the box of band-aids, alcohol and Neosporin, then sets them all aside for after her shower. Stripping away the remainder of her clothing, she hops in the shower turns on the hot water, finding herself sinking down into a sitting position on the floor. The stinging of the open wounds on her legs seem to suddenly pale in comparison to the comfort the hot water provides to her aching muscles. Wanting to extend the time spent in this one place she's been able to find any mild relief from her aches and pains all day, Marinette lingers longer than she usually would.

Drying off and stepping out wrapped up in a towel, she takes a seat on her toilet and begins dressing the matching wounds adorning both kneecaps. Her pajamas hang on the back of the door, still fresh and clean from when she'd washed them yesterday evening and she slips into the soft clothing when the scrapes and gashes have all been addressed. After discarding the used alcohol pads and bandage rappers in the trash under her sink, she finally takes a glance at the context of his message.

( **Luka 7:02pm** \- Are you home yet?)

( **Marinette 7:25pm** \- Yeah, at last.)

A small pinch to her ankle snaps her out of the momentary reprieve from the day's unrelenting series of struggles. Knowing her cat well, she glances down to see Tikki going back in for another pointed bite to her foot and moves away just in time to avoid her scolding for being late with dinner. If only this cat understood it isn't always about her.

"Okay cat, you don't have to be rude, I was getting there." She chides the small creature who then looks up at her with another small chirp of a noise and turns around to lead her owner toward the cabinet as if Marinette doesn't know where the food is stored. Following the cat to the kitchen, opening the cupboard and measuring out the usual amount Tikki gets at night, peace is restored once more within the household. As Tikki munches happily on her kibble, sated, the tired woman makes her way to the living room. Sinking back onto the couch, a smile ghosts over her features once again when she reads the next message.

( **Luka 7:26pm** \- How was your day?)

( **Marinette 7:26pm** \- It was a day.)

Aware her pointed response will give her away, draws her legs up under her body waits quietly on the sofa. It is not a long-awaited reply.

( **Luka 7:27pm:** Uh-oh. Safe to assume that means it sucked? Idiot boss troubles again?)

He always has been so adept at reading into the little intricacies of her behavior. She's always marveled at this inexplicable capability of his to intuit her feelings. Even to this day, it remains a mystery. What's more, he somehow usually knows the right way to respond, even at times when she had no clue how she felt. Would this be a time to allow her space to gather her thoughts? Would he need to step in and offer reassurances? Has it ever even been guess work for him? Sometimes she truly believes he can read her mind and as someone who has difficulty expressing her issues to others, it is very much an appreciated trait.

At any rate, it's easy enough to tell he's in the "I'll be your shoulder to cry on" kind of mindset tonight given that sweet and openly curious response. He's inviting discourse. Opening a discussion. Creating an opportunity for her to speak her mind, seek comfort or even simply for her to complain. It's hardly the first time he's tried, though she's always brushed it off as him babying her in the past. _'Come on now, it's just a crappy day'. 'Everyone has those. No need to treat me like I'm fragile and going to break over every little thing._ ' She remembers using those types of dismissive phrases in the past to avoid a discussion she thought she didn't need or want. After today though, something's different. Something about the overarching theme of this day -that being way too much effort for no pay off- has her too exhausted to make her usual excuses. Even as she smiles, Marinette begins to feel the lump form in her throat and the tears sting at her eyes. Is his kindness simply too difficult to emotionally interpret after the frustration and disappointment of her day? Is the thought that someone wishes to show their support too overwhelming? Is she finally just cracking under the weight of the pressure put on her shoulders by this job and its many, _many_ obstacles? Or could it be that she's more used to handling those who don't treat her with kindness or compassion than those who do? Is she just being childish after all? _'It could be some screwed up combination of all those things.'_ Her inner monologue offers as she hears another ping from her phone.

( **Marinette 7:30 pm:** Yeah, I guess.)

Before she can even think, the words _'Luka is typing…"_ appear in the bottom of her chat window, bringing another appreciative smile to her lips. The tears keep right on stinging at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall. He's the one person that has never failed to show her the empathy others lack, even when it seems as though the rest of the people in her world are completely apathetic. And at the end of a day like today, in a job like this one, it's easy to lose oneself in the feeling of being cared for this way.

( **Luka 7:31pm:** Is it cool if I come over?)

She takes a moment to ponder this, unsure if she wants to share her vulnerability with anyone or not. Texting is one thing, but meeting face to face is another matter entirely. It's always been a weakness of hers -this being unable to or unwilling to open herself up to possible scrutiny from others. Two sides of her mind are instantly at odds with one another. There is a part of her that wants to shut down entirely, closing herself off from everything and everyone until the sour feelings can be dulled and repressed. Yet, though it is extremely tempting to turn inward, the part of her that is simply too exhausted to continue putting up a front finds the companionship very appealing, and ultimately wins this brief battle.

( **Marinette 7:34pm:** Yes. Please do.)

She knows that Luka has the app on his phone with the code to unlock her front door on his own, so she heads into the kitchen and grabs her favorite flavor of loose-leaf and heats up some water on the stove while waiting for him to arrive. As soon as the water hits a boil she turns off the burner and pours the hot liquid into her single-serving steeping cup, where she already has loose-leaf blueberry tea and rock sugar waiting.

Three minutes pass and then she places the container on top of her mug, the freshly mixed tea slowly draining into the cup. As she sits down at her dining table and blows on the hot drink, she hears the distinct sound of the locking mechanism in the door being turned over. The young man calls out a greeting as he shuts the front door and the baby gate behind himself and she finds herself suddenly freezing up. Even after he's shown himself to not care about such things, she still doesn't want to be perceived as weak. Especially not by him. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Without making any pointless small talk, Luka sets about making himself a cup of tea, less out of any desire or need for a drink, and mostly just to keep himself busy while giving Marinette space to calm down. By now, he knows her well enough that the way she seems to recoil as he enters the kitchen tells him that she is not entirely ready to open up, even if she had been inclined to keep his company tonight. It didn't take long after she'd begun working this new job to notice how discontent she'd become. He'd lived his whole life with an inborn talent for reading people and he readily used it to try and help her on numerous occasions, up to now, with no success. While he'd love nothing more than to walk right up to her and pull her into a fierce hug, he knows it is very unlikely to be well received and may in fact, only inflame current issues. No need to do anything that might heighten her anxiety, especially not when she's finally allowed him to be present when she's at her most vulnerable. Having remained in contact since they were teenagers and watching her go through a number of struggles, he has only ever wished for her happiness and is still willing to do whatever helps her remain happy. It is a sentiment that has never faded away or dulled over time. Leaning his back against the counter, the musician sets his eyes briefly on the plastic container that steeps his beverage before allowing his eyes to wonder in the direction of his companion. Though patience is a virtue and space is clearly still called for, a little glance won't hurt anything.

His heart sinks a little at the utterly defeated body language she tries desperately hide- the subtle slump to her shoulders, the knot in her brow, the downturn of her lip that she attempts to disguise by taking a few long sips from her mug. His eyes linger on a fresh and angry bruise that now adorns her right cheek, no doubt another casualty of her obviously rough day. _'Rough in more ways than_ one,' His brain supplies this unwelcome tidbit, _'If I didn't know better, I'd think someone assaults her every day.'_ Her blue bell eyes, normally vibrant, are dull and distant, rounding out her downcast face. Her jaw is set in a firm line, almost as if she is too numb to decide if being angry or sad is more appropriate.

This look she wears now…it can't be the result of a single bad day. How can it be? He's never seen someone trying with such desperation to fight off such obvious and overwhelming exhaustion. Emotional, mental, physical? From where he stands it certainly appears to be all three. Still, the only one here who knows the answer to that is sitting in front of him in silence. Just how deep does the frustration and sorrow in her expression and manner run? No clear answers to be found as long as she is unwilling to share them with him. One thing, though, is stunningly clearer by the second. Waiting her out may not be the right tactic after all. Each second that passes the woman before him appears more closed off, more unwilling to open herself up. As much as he does not want her to feel like she's being backed into a corner or forced to talk to him, if she won't take this step on her own, then he will have to give her the push she needs.

Both unable and unwilling to initiate this dialogue, she remains silent, avoiding raising her eyes to meet his gaze. As her equally silent companion opens the cupboard and chooses a mug, the girl wrestles with the why in this equation. Why is it she finds herself hesitating to speak after inviting him to come over? When it comes down to it, the story she wants to tell is rather simple. The words she wants to use are right on her tongue. She knows he'll never tell her not to speak her mind. Luka has never been anything if not supportive. The anger and frustration she feels are almost palpable within the air of her kitchen. So why can't she bring herself to say anything? Has she spent so long interacting in such a calculating way that it's difficult to simply be authentic with someone? Though she invited him here of her own will and she surely doesn't want him to leave, she can't give voice to her feelings as she thought she had wanted to before.

"Marinette…" Suddenly in a chair beside her, Luka's soft voice startles her from her daze. For a split second her startled eyes find his -two blue orbs that exude determination- and that split second of seeing his resolve begins to melt her frozen emotions. Before her eyes fall back to her lap, her fear begins to slowly erode. Whatever anxieties she harbored about this interaction seem to gradually fade from existence. "You can talk to me, if you need to. I'll listen. I want to know you're okay."

Strength of will now gone all together, Marinette releases her hold on her mug of tea, abandoning it where she had been resting her arm on the tabletop. Hands dropping into her lap as she allows herself to shift forward, her forehead falls softly against his right shoulder. Turing her head to one side and allowing her cheek to rest more comfortably against his collarbone, tears are already beginning to well up. It registers in her mind only briefly that several muscles in his upper body seem to tighten as the clack of his mug on the kitchen table rings through the otherwise silent room. With his hand now free, Luka reaches out, running his fingers through her hair in his best attempt to offer comfort when he feels her small body begin to shake.

Leaning on him at this angle, she can just begin to make out the rhythmic beating of his heart. Somehow, the pace strikes her as a little too quick to match the calm manner with which he interacts with her. Could it be nerves? Still gently running a hand through her hair, the guitarist quietly offers words of empathy. His hot fingers gently brush against her scalp. His other hand, as yet unoccupied, falls upon her shoulder, the heat of his grip searing. This is the moment the flood gates finally crack open, the stoppered words she's been struggling to say for far too long surging out unfiltered.

"It's so exhausting…every day hurts...so much..." She finally manages though a sob. Despite her shaking shoulders and shuddering breaths, she doesn't miss the way the gentle stroking of her hair has ceased as he gently pulls her body in closer. Both hands now around her shoulders, the man freezes up for a second, considering his options. His face burns as he realizes just exactly how any of his actions could be interpreted right now, yet he still wants desperately to show affection to someone so important seeking comfort from him. Would it seem untoward of him? Uncertain, he begins slowly massaging small circles into one of her shoulders.

Goosebumps raise up on her arms as the pressure of his fingertips against her back increases before the soothing ministrations begin. The sudden heat that rushes up the back of her neck and over her ears could likely be a result of the sobs wracking her body, but she knows herself better than that. She knows there's really only one reason this embrace is so warm, and it's not a result of any tears.

"Marin…" She doesn't intend to cut him off, but a sudden and unbidden burst of sobs silences the young man.

"Every day is so hard…I try and I do…a-and I give and I just c-can't…being ignored when I need help...always in trouble...it hurts so m-much...god, you must think...I'm so..." His gentle embrace shifts suddenly into a sharp squeeze, the young man seizing his turn to silence her sloppily vocalized thoughts. His calloused fingers continue the controlled massage against her upper back. Heat that had settled over her nose and cheeks seems to only intensify. Her heart rate picks up. It's surely not the time or place for such thoughts, but his arms around her have felt more secure, more warm, or more perfect than how they feel in this moment. Even in spite of all the pain, a part of her feels so safe and secure. ' _Hardly my first time feeling like this around him...'_ She tries with little success to throw the idle thought onto the back burner along with the rest of her thoughts that are not suited to the time or place.

Both hands leave their place on her shoulder blades, moving up to rest on the ball of each shoulder. After a breath to steady his nerves, Luka pushes her back abruptly. Her reddened eyes and tear-streaked cheeks steal his breath. His heart lurches in his chest with the desire to somehow chase all of her as yet unspoken troubles away. Unable to string together any grand speech as he looks into her blue bell eyes, the guitarist simply says words in the order they come into his mind. "Don't worry about what I think. I promise you, you never have to worry about that. I'm here…whatever I can do, I will. Complain, cry, be angry...just do whatever you need until you feel better."

If his gentle verbal encouragement had been enough to shatter her hesitation to voice her troubles earlier, these spoken words and holding his reassuring gaze banishes any remaining doubts her mind wants to hold onto. Why had she ever been worried about what may come of her open invite? There is no longer a need to worry over such things as coercion or sabotage. She's no longer in the environment where she must always wear a poker face. No longer around the people she always puts on airs for. Perhaps more calming than either of those thoughts, though, it that it is Luka sitting here with her. At the end of the day, she knows he speaks the truth. Of all the people on Earth, he's the last person she has to wear a mask in front of. Warmed by this thought, she leans her forehead down onto his shoulder once more and completely gives herself over to the anguish, turmoil, anger and frustration that has been mounting over the last several months. And boy does it feel incredible to lean on his shoulder and let all that pain out.

"I clean up for other people every day and still get accused of not being a team player. The people in charge ignore how my boss is acting…and they told us the dogs and cats are merchandise…" The emotions this statement alone dredges up are far too raw to detail this any further without the pain becoming overwhelming. But it is quite liberating to verbalize some of her experiences. It is the first tiny prickling feeling of beginning to heal the young woman has been able to achieve in months, and she spends a few seconds relishing the freeing sensation it brings. Swallowing harshly, she presses on. "Patrons and adopters treat me like I'm hurting the animals. And I start to think 'maybe they're right about me' when I realize I can't help. I just never realized…how _difficult_ this kind of job is." The word difficult is what she chose, but it a simple matter to discern that it doesn't do justice to her situation. The harsh reality of her admission hits like a tidal wave. The heartache is palpable with each word she utters against his shoulder. He was right that this is no simple 'bad day,' but the sheer depth of anguish is mind-boggling.

Both arms fall into place around her shoulders once more. His calloused musician's hand returns to it's place and once again picks up the action of rubbing gentle circles into her shoulder blade and allows her to give voice to her complaints. Sensing how healing this exchange has become for her, he'd rather not disrupt the moment with unnecessary jargon. The only important words at this point are the ones she wants to speak. Right now, he need only be present to offer support.

When the girl nuzzles into his collarbone in a way that suggests she may be seeking more affection, he can't stop his automatic reaction of clamping down like a clam shell, holding her upper body flush. It is the second time in the span of a few minutes that he's held her in such an intimate way. Her body is so close the man can feel the immediate stiffening of her back and forearms for a split second before the designer settles into the contact. Maybe he's overstepping her boundaries, but he can't resist the urge to show more affection when it seems to be being solicited. At least not with this particular girl. Not now, when she needs to know there is someone always on her side.

His ears burn as her hands slowly envelop his torso. Clearly, he read her actions correctly. Her small fingers are shaking and warm, nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Clinging to him like a child, she manages a few more complaints through sobs and trembling breaths.

"I got…ca-called…to the office again…I don't know what…I'm doing wrong…" Swallowing back her sobs in order to get the words out, she enjoys the continued soft ministrations of his hand on her shoulder. "I had to clean up for…some…one…else _again_. Then get yelled at f-for being _too slow_. When I try to point out what's wrong…I get told I'm imagining things. I do everything one person can do in a day…and still get told I'm lazy…I just...don't know what to do anymore..." Trailing off when she feels some snot beginning to trail down from her nose, Marinette backs out of the embrace.

Noting her embarrassment and discomfort, Luka snatches a few napkins from the middle of the dining table and hands them to her wordlessly. Casting his gaze away to give her some privacy, the man waits while she blows her nose. Heat still prickling at his nose and cheeks, he must admit his disappointment at the loss of that embrace. He'd be very unlikely to ever speak the words aloud, but in his head at least, he's okay with acknowledging the idea that he would have liked the hug to continue.

It takes a few minutes of silence while she cleans herself up for him to be able to glance over at her again and notice that her body language has become far less tense. Her blue bell eyes seem to have some vibrancy to them again. Her face is not nearly so pale and grief-wracked. A long, deep breath in and an airy exhalation follow as he studies her in silence. Setting the used napkins aside, she sniffs one final time before lining her gaze up with his once again. A grateful expression sweeps over her features, her lips turning up into a halfhearted smile. He keeps his eyes trained on her, returning her content and grateful smile with small crooked grin of his own.

"Thanks Luka," Her hand gently comes to rest on top of his, making his heart do a little flip in his chest. "You're…" Her words fail her for a second as crystal clear disappointment flashes behind those aquamarine eyes. It would seem whatever filtered version of her thoughts she had been about to voice would not have been pleasing for him to hear. It's hardly the first time she's caught that very small display of emotion, and more and more, it's starting to pique her curiosity. Perhaps it's that filter he doesn't care for. So, she temporarily tosses it aside, choosing to be braver for mostly the sake of her own curiosity. Marinette simply must know. How will he respond to a slight splash of honesty? It takes a second or two to regain composure to speak again, and when she does, the words tumble out with surprising ease. "…really pretty amazing…"

The incredulous and ever-so-slightly pleased expression that settles on his features not only satisfies her curiosity, it unleashes an entire colony of butterflies in her stomach. There is no time to dwell on the mounting affection welling within her chest before she is leaning in and placing a chaste kiss, a touch of her lips lighter than a breath of air, on the young man's cheek. The hand that had been resting atop his seems to move as if under its own will, her rogue fingers raking through the dark hair at the base of his skull in a fleeting moment of shared enjoyment before her hand falls back into her lap. The rising of goosebumps down his neck as she pulls away would be plainly visible if she could bring her eyes to rest upon him, but instead her gaze falls to the floor between her feet as her nerves get the better of her. It's only as she settles back into her seat that the reality of what she just did hits her and the uni student's cheeks burn as she forces herself to sheepishly glance up at her companion, in case the need to apologize for being forward should arise.

Initially stunned, Luka feels that sensation slowly fade and begin to be replaced with a potent mixture of joy and relief. He can't remember a time he didn't harbor romantic feelings for the woman sitting in front of him. For the longest time, those feelings were one-sided and she was already in a happy and committed relationship. But when her boyfriend ultimately had to leave the country for his career and she had just entered into her first semester of university, they had broken things off, both recognizing they would not have the time or the ability to make it work long distance. During this difficult time for her is when the friendship between Marinette and himself really began to solidify into something more than a friendly hello when bumping into one another in public. Though they had been closer in the past, the two only occasionally interacted once they'd moved into adulthood. A friendly hello in the grocery store, a wave if passing one another in the street was really as far as it went.

They only exchanged updated numbers after running into one another in the grocery store one day a few months after her ex-boyfriend's departure. Spending time together in person happened mostly by accident in the beginning, but when they began re-exploring mutual interests and found they had similar senses of humor, outings began being planned. In their mutual free time, he'd come over with games, movies or snacks and they'd spend days in lost in the combat of a video game or quietly enjoying a movie with some popcorn and beers. They'd go out together and get food or browse book stores or game and music shops. She'd show up at his apartment with freshly baked snacks from her parent's bakery or spend an afternoon bantering with him via text.

During the beginning of this blossoming friendship is when she picked up the job at the animal shelter. The sharp decline in her energy and frequent dour moods made it obvious something was wrong within a few weeks. At first it was difficult to discern if she was simply exhausted from a combination of work and school or if something more sinister was going on behind the scenes. But as the number of 'bad days' at work began to increase and she began to retreat inside herself more and more -trying to conceal whatever turmoil she was going through- the more he realized it was a direct result of this work she was doing. He had offered to help a number of times up to now, recognizing her distress as something in need of urgent addressing. To his dismay, he would always be dismissed, Marinette offering flimsy reasoning such as being too tired or it all being his imagination.

Through it all, Luka always tried to remain conscientious of the difference in their feelings toward one another. To him, she was a crush from his school days that blossomed into a first love and over time became the only one he could see himself caring for so deeply. To her, he was a cute friend from adolescence who was kind and reliable, a friend she adored, but clearly never harbored any romantic inclinations toward. Aside from growing apart with age, relationships and responsibilities cropping up as they grew into adults, not too much about that teenage dynamic had changed. She was starting uni, then working her way through heartbreak, then wading through the trials of this new job. There never was a clear point at which she was ready to begin looking for new love. And he simply was not willing to force his feelings onto someone else. He liked her, maybe even loved her, but he also respected her enough to not want to burden her already troubled mind with his romantic expectations.

Suddenly, every rule he thought he'd been bound to operating under for the last however many some odd years is gone in a matter of little more than two minutes. With that quietly uttered comment and the soft yet obviously pointed peck on his cheek, he feels justified in believing that something is different for her now. To some degree, she must have mutual interest in him. The realization hits hard, his breath hitching as he absently follows her nervous foot tapping with his eyes. A soft smile directed at no one in particular filling his features, Luka extends his arm, threading his fingers through hers. Without realizing it, he finds his eyes falling upon her face once more, as if he is unconsciously seeking to see her expressions. The sight of her surprised blue eyes darting down to their entwined fingers before they once again rise to meet his brings a grin caught somewhere between amusement and gratification to his lips.

Two pairs of bright blue eyes remain aligned for but a second before the temptation to take in the many other details of this moment proves too great for him to resist. A very notable shade of red highlights her bemused features. Her lower lip suddenly is tugged into her mouth, caught between two rows of teeth. How a combination of excitement, curiosity and pure joy slowly begin to replace the startled gleam in those blue eyes. The rapidly forming idea he has inside his own mind that his expression, manner and feelings are finally quite similar to hers. His fingers tighten around hers as he feels himself unconsciously leaning in to the point where his elbows rest atop his knees. One final connection of eye contact allows for an unspoken question to pass from Luka to Marinette as if by some sort of telepathy. Laced through his, her fingers press into the skin between each knuckle, in a silent yet enthusiastic display of encouragement. As if any one single movement could destroy it all, Luka closes the distance carefully and places his lips over hers. It's a soft kiss, fleeting and innocent even, and somehow it's still _everything_ to him. Similarly, Marinette is overjoyed and struggles not to squirm with delight. The silence of the room is filled with the ticking of the clock on her wall and the fierce beating of two hearts.

Moving back, he reaches out with his free hand and softly brushes his thumb along the side of her face, only now realizing her eyes are still a bit red from crying. Wincing as images of her small body wracked with sobs flash through his mind's eye and the sound of her voice as she tried desperately to convey the breadth of her despair plays like a tape recorder inside his brain, he takes a deep breath. Guilt hits him like a slap to the back of the head. Had he really just taken advantage of her vulnerability? As much as addressing the kiss now would ease his anxieties about a possible romantic future for them, the focus needs to shift back to her. The entire reason he came here is to try to support her. Disappointed by his own thoughtlessness, he retracts his hand, scooting back in his chair and breaking all physical contact.

"I brought a couple of presents with me," He tells her in a matter-of-fact tone, getting to his feet and heading toward the door, "Hang on a sec."

Her worried eyes follow the young guitarist as he makes his way down the hall that leads to her front door as she remains rooted to her seat, utterly confused. He acts as if he wants more from her, then seems happy to be given affection, then _kisses_ her and now he appears to want to pretend as if nothing happened. He even went so far as to _immediately_ get up and leave the room all together. ' _What if he regrets it?'_ Her mind taunts. _'Maybe even Luka is able to be swept up in a moment. Or at least...what I thought was a moment.'_ Great, just freaking great. Like she needs another contributor to her stress.

Despite this, when he returns with a couple of grocery bags containing a few Ghibli movies, snacks, a 2 liter of coke and a bottle of black rum, she finds herself relegating that worry to a back burner. What sounds better at the end of a long day than a stiff drink, some good food, a fun movie and the best possible company? Even if said company wants to ignore the current situation for whatever reason. She cleans up the mess they left on the kitchen table, the forgotten mugs of tea now cold are picked up along with her used napkins and tossed. Her friend? Romantic interest? Acquaintance who she just happened to kiss? Well, he works on mixing their drinks and setting out the snacks. When he asks her to come choose a movie, she shambles awkwardly toward the coffee table and sorts through the five choices, finally deciding on Kiki. Luka settles on the couch behind her as she loads the disc and sets up the blue Ray player. Butterflies swarm once more in her stomach.

A discernible stiffness to her movements, she makes her way around the coffee table and settles into the spot next to the boy. Nervously, she sneaks a quick peek at Luka, an action that only serves to further heighten her nerves. Not only does he appear unaffected by the events of the evening, but his body language is overall relaxed as he props his feet up on the coffee table and sips his mixed drink. Feeling a little discouraged, she trains her eyes on the TV as the film gets under way, retrieves her own beverage and takes a few long swigs. If this keeps up, it'll be a long night for sure and her nerves could stand to be a little less strung out.

He can't even pretend he hasn't noticed her unease since the beginning of the movie. She has been extremely conscious of him, before the first drink had been poured. Glancing down at the girl, he can clearly see that deep knot in her brow. The worry shines in her eyes as she takes a long drink. Her fingers tap repetitively on the couch cushion beside her knee as she attempts to keep her eyes on the screen. That kiss, enjoyable though it was for him, was a terrible miscalculation on his part. Even if her feelings for him have changed somehow, he shouldn't have brought his romantic interests into the mix tonight. All it's done is upset the poor woman even more. Plucking the remote from the coffee table, he taps the pause button. How could he possibly ignore such obvious unease? To make matters worse, when he does turn to her, that same unease increases ten fold. So much for trying to maintain a positive outlook on the outcome of this upcoming conversation.

"You can tell me honestly," He begins, taking note of the speed with which she glances up at him, "Did that kiss make you uncomfortable? I won't be ups-" Before the final word is even fully formed, the young woman next to him is speaking.

"No. It didn't." Her words are definitive, but her eyes and body language still convey some worry. "D-did...you not like it? It felt...sorta...kinda...like you wanted to get away from me after..."

Oh. _Oh._ Her thought process is crystal clear now. Well damn.

Swiftly wrapping one arm around around her shoulder and pulling the woman in against his side, Luka leans his cheek against the top of her head. As he feels one of her small hands come to rest atop his leg, he clears his throat and speaks up. "Sorry." A short and yet somehow still incredibly sincere apology. "I didn't mean to give you that impression. I should'eve explained things. I honestly felt guilty kissing you when you were so vulnerable. I really was..." well, it's not liked he's suddenly stopping being on cloud nine, " _Am. I really am_ happy, though. You don't even know how long-" Abruptly his words falter and die in the air between them. For reasons she can't know, he doesn't wish to continue and it doesn't much matter. The words already spoken were more than enough.

Initially too shocked by the ardent tone he'd just used to address her to form a proper response, Marinette simply snuggles in against the left side of his body. Heat sears her cheeks. It may as well have been a straightforward 'I have always loved you.' Her fingers press down into the spot where they rest on his leg. The weight of his cheek atop her head vanishes and she finally sneaks a glance at her companion. His ears and cheeks are tinged with a light pink color as he turns to meet her eyes again.

"I...love you." All poetic pretense and flowery impassioned speech are cast aside in favor of simple, honest and direct language.

The clear and concise words hit just right. Though the aspiring designer can hardly say she's prepared to make such a bold declaration herself, she knows her feelings for him are romantic in nature and have likely been so for some time. This leaves her in a bit of a box when it comes to responding. "I-I..." Is there a good way to explain her point of view? To flatly tell him 'I don't think I can say I love you' sounds flippant and, at least in her own mind, denotes the idea that she isn't sure she even can or ever will. Not exactly something she wants him believing. While the young woman may not know how to define her feelings at this time, she doesn't want to come off as lacking the will to learn how to identify her emotions. Those azure eyes remain connected to hers as he allows his free hand to gently come to rest atop the hand she had placed on his leg. "I...care about you a l-lot. I want to...be with you...b-but..." And thus the trusty nervous stutter appears to have made it's return.

"You don't have to be sure about everything," Luka assures the flustered woman, his grip tightening both around her shoulder and around the slender fingers above his knee. Once again, without need of her voicing her insecurities in so many words, the musician had known how to shoo them away. "If you're happy and you want this too..." Pausing to provide an opportunity for his companion to offer her own thoughts, he awaits any reply she is willing to give -albeit, slightly less patiently than a moment or so ago. After all this time believing his feelings would only ever be one-sided, of course he's eager to get any kind of affirmation from her that this is no longer the case. After only a second or two she nods, threading the fingers of her right hand through his. A content smile plays on his features as all of his earlier anxieties melt away. Blue bell eyes show no sign of doubt and a small flickering of relief passes through Luka's eyes before he concludes his thoughts. "...Then that's enough for now." Giving her shoulder one final squeeze, his half-embrace falls slack. "We can talk about things more later. Right now, I just want you to feel okay."

Letting go of her hand as their locked eyes finally part ways, he picks up the remote and hits play to resume the movie. Smiling to herself as she watches the screen and melts into the warmth of Luka's gentle affection, Marinette can't help but think that despite every bad day up until now, this is the most okay she's felt in months.

Sofa bed now folded out, she and Luka are nestled comfortably under the comforter she yanked from the mattress in her bedroom. His chest is pressed into her back as she lays on her left side with his arms gently wrapped around her. Spent from the emotional roller coaster that had been this entire freaking day, Marinette's eyes are heavy as she relaxes into her pillow. As she feels sleep beginning to set in, the guitarist decides to speak up.

"Hey..." His tone is a bit muted, suggesting he may also be on the edge of unconsciousness.

"Mmhmm?" She huffs out, the effort of making the noise seemingly so much more difficult while drowsy.

"You don't have to keep working there." Tone now decidedly more firm, he has her full attention in seconds.

"You mean give up?" Never one to back down from a fight, she doesn't like the idea of being a quitter.

"I mean do what's best for your mental health." His arms tighten for only a second or two before relaxing once more. She hears him inhale at length and then exhale slowly, and curious enough to momentarily forget her tiredness, flips over to face him. His striking blue eyes open to reveal a countless number of emotions, not the least of which being a fierce yearning. But for what? Her? Awestruck, she bites down on her lip as he begins speaking once again. "It's been awful watching you feel worse and worse every day, and I really hated not being able to help until now. But if you do decide to leave this place, don't do it because of me or what I think. Do it because you deserve a place to work that makes you happy, where you enjoy your job and they treat you with some decency..." Filled with overwhelming gratitude and affection at his speech, Marinette can't manifest any word or action that seems appropriate in response, so she waits in stunned silence to hear what he might say next, if anything. "...and..." His voice, which had sounded so assured only a moment ago is now restrained, hesitant even.

"And?" The bluenette speaks up after a moment, puzzled at his sudden reluctance to continue.

A moment passes in which he seems to study her, the resolve in his expression slowly building back up. Her heart pounds in her chest, suddenly held spell-bound within the young man's heated gaze. She feels his hot fingers seize and fidget with a small cluster of wrinkles in the back of her shirt. His face is definitively quite flushed as he opens his mouth a final time.

"And if for whatever reason nothing else works out, I'll happily take care of you while you're in school." Fingers quickly release her clothing and his arm draws away, his hand now instead covering his very flushed face.

Ecstatic at his words and astounded by his display of embarrassment, the fashion fan feels an uncontrollable grin take over her features. Her arms are around him before she has even thought about how to respond, squeezing the man with every bit of the elation she's feeling pouring into the embrace. After a few moments like this, the woman finally releases him and snuggles into the guitarist's chest. "Thank you Luka...just thank you...for everything." As he mumbles a sheepish reply she can't help but think that if she isn't already head over heels for this person, falling in love with him will be the easiest thing in the world to do.

The following Monday at work, the blue-haired woman hands in her notice.


End file.
